Looking Through the Eyes of a Killer
by Mistress Lrigtar
Summary: Ginny has been blessed or cursed, depending on how she looks at it, with the gift of second sight. When a case in the Auror's Office stirs up disturbing images, she finds herself aiding the investigation.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Well, I'm back. This idea came to me and wouldn't let me rest until I began writing it. I have nearly done so and thought it would be safe for me to begin posting. I hope you will enjoy. As always, thanks to my amazing betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny.**

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_A thick mist clung to the ground, swirling around the scraggly trunks of the trees in the sparse wood. Up ahead, in the dark shadows of the moonless night, the sounds of someone gasping for breath and frantically running through the scrubby underbrush could be heard. Lights from a Muggle vehicle on a nearby road flared briefly through the trees as it passed. The mist glowed eerily and the silhouette of a young woman appeared._

_"Help me!" she screamed as she put on a burst of speed in an attempt to reach the road and the possible aid of a Muggle passing by. "Somebody help me!"_

_Her cries startled an owl perched in a tree, and with a mournful sound, it spread its wings and soared away over the trees._

_A burst of red light blazed through the trees, racing towards the retreating form of the woman. It slashed across the backs of her legs and sent her crashing to the forest floor. The air throbbed ominously as footsteps pounded towards the sobbing woman. She attempted to crawl away, still crying weakly for help even though the car passed and the forest was once again plunged into darkness._

_"No one can hear you," an indistinct male voice sounded beside her, flooding the woman with a bright light and causing her to begin screaming in earnest. His shadow loomed over her as he reached down to grab her long hair, tangled with twigs and leaves and wrenched her head back. Her screams filled the air as he moved around in front of her, pulling her to her knees by her hair as he did so. _

_Her breath came in ragged gasps, "No, no, no!"_

"No!" twenty-three year old Ginny Weasley sat up in her bed, the sheets and bedcovers pooling around her waist as she did so. She shakily ran her hands over her face, smoothing the long, damp strands of her hair out of her eyes. Her soaking white nightdress clung to her body, and shoving the covers off her completely, she slipped out of bed and stumbled over to the wash stand. Picking up the pitcher from the bottom shelf she poured the water within into the basin. Setting the pitcher down, Ginny bent over the basin and splashed the cool water on her face several times before rising back up and allowing it to drip down her neck and the front of her nightdress.

Pulling the nightdress over her head, she dropped it to the floor and walked over to the window in her room and pushed it open. Standing naked in front of the open window, she sucked in deep breaths of the crisp, autumn air. The sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the mountains that stood on the far side of the lake and she watched as the sky turned pink along the horizon fading upwards into the darkness where the stars still shone.

The stars she could still see in the sky told her nothing, but she didn't need to read them to know she had just witnessed a murder. Whether it had already happened or was destined to, she could not be certain, but the sounds of the woman's cries still echoed in Ginny's mind. Shivering, she turned away from the window and pulled her dressing gown from the foot of her bed to wrap around herself.

It had been some time since she had had such clarity of vision, not that Ginny was complaining. She much preferred the small flashes of insight she received when she was near someone who had something eventful about to happen to them, either good or bad. If she wanted, she could open up the channels within her and read anyone anytime, but that was exhausting. As a child, she had experienced imprints of what her brothers and parents were thinking and feeling. Her mother had said that perhaps Ginny possessed some psychic ability, and when she attended Hogwarts, she could eventually take Divination to strengthen her gift. However, the start of her menstrual cycle the summer before Ginny began her third year at Hogwarts triggered something within her and suddenly she found herself not only accosted with the full brunt of her family's emotions, but clear visions of the future, as well.

Her first vision had come to her in a dream, much like the one she had just experienced and she had woken up screaming in the middle of the night. Her mother had soothed her as best she could and listened while Ginny blubbered over the horrific sight of witnessing a boy she didn't know being struck down by the Killing Curse. She hadn't known if it was real or merely a dream, but the shadowy images had been permanently burned into her mind.

Ginny had barely been able to function the remainder of the summer. Attempting to deal with the raging hormonal fluctuations of her own emotions, along with those of her brothers, and seeing flashes of future deaths brought on by the rapidly approaching war against Voldemort had left her reeling. Not to mention that she dreamed of the boy on a weekly basis. Try as she might, however, she could never clearly see who he was or the face of his attacker. All she sensed was the innate goodness of the boy and the immense evil that surrounded him.

She'd been dreading returning to Hogwarts, with good reason, but her parents had already spoken with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and they had arranged for her to study privately with the centaur, Firenze. Instead of taking Divination under Professor Trelawney, who Ginny had already decided was not only insane, but mostly a fraud, as well, she met with Firenze at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

The first thing Firenze had taught her to do was to meditate. He had softly explained it was the best way to clear her mind of all the troubling thoughts and to focus on only one specific vision. With that thought currently in mind, Ginny sank to the round, braided rag rug that covered the centre of her room. Sitting cross-legged, she rested her hands lightly on her knees and closed her eyes. Taking deep breaths in, Ginny reflected upon the dream once more, seeing the young woman's retreating back. She had long dark brown or black hair, that nearly brushed her waist, and she was an average height, taller than Ginny. Ginny stripped the surrounding forest and mist from her mind's eye and focused on the woman's aura. It swirled about her, faintly glowing a greenish-yellow, tinged with the red of fear with brief sharp flashes of light that told Ginny the woman was a witch. Magic always sparkled like a lightning storm around magical being's auras. The red in the woman's aura grew as her attacker approached until it had engulfed the normal colour and the red throbbed, filling Ginny's mind. It was all she could see, and was soon accompanied by the pain the young woman had already gone through and would go through at the hands of her attacker. Then he was there, surrounding her and the red turned to black. Ginny hadn't had a clear picture of him in the dream and could not read whether he was Muggle or magical, but she sensed his malice and his clear intent to have his way with the woman lying at his feet. The woman's cries filled Ginny's ears once again as she curled up in a ball, attempting to ward off her attacker with feeble bats of her hands.

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she found she had curled up into a foetal position, as well, during her meditation. Sunlight now streamed in from her still open window, and faint birdsong from the nearby forest carried through the air. With her channels of perception still open, Ginny could faintly feel the castle coming to life around her as students and staff rose from their slumber. Closing her mind, she found herself alone with her own troubled thoughts of what had become of the woman and wondering if she would ever find out.

Rising, she walked to her vanity, and picked up a boar's hair brush. Her wavy masses of flaming red hair hung to her waist, and taking a hank in her left hand, she began running the brush through it from the crown of her head to the end a hundred times. While meditation was good for focusing on specific images, brushing her hair was good at clearing her head of all visions. She continued the rhythmic brushing of each hank until her full head had been completed, her hair shone, and her mind was refreshingly blank. Knowing the disturbing vision had been set aside for the time being, Ginny deftly wove her hair into a thick plait, tying the end with a piece of yellow yarn before she retreated to the washroom to bathe and dress for the day.

Skipping breakfast in the Great Hall, Ginny decided to head directly to her classroom, where she knew she would be able to brew a kettle of tea and kip a biscuit or two from the tin her mother had sent her just last week. Entering her classroom, which was situated where the previous Divination classroom had been at the top of the North Tower of Hogwarts, Ginny paused in the doorway. The first thing Ginny had done when she had accepted the position of Divination professor was throw all the lace doilies, curtains, tablecloths and chiffon scarves Professor Trelawney had favoured into the rubbish bin. Instead, Ginny had chosen to decorate her classroom with the comforts of home and patterned her classroom after the cosiness of her mother's cramped kitchen at the Burrow.

Instead of lace doilies and tablecloths, homespun tablecloths adorned the twenty round wooden tables and colourful cushions sat upon the wooden chairs. Quilted curtains hung at the tall windows and fluttered in the slight morning breeze. A large iron kettle hung in the huge fireplace at the front of the room where Ginny's desk resided, and even when she wasn't teaching Tasseomancy, Ginny always brewed a kettle of tea because she found the aroma relaxing and was fairly certain her students did, as well.

Walking to her desk, Ginny waved her wand at the kettle, filling it with water before waving her wand once again to light the fire in the grate. Warm flames rose instantly, licking at the bottom of the kettle and Ginny settled into her desk chair, before pulling open a desk drawer and withdrawing her tea tin and her mother's biscuits.

While the water was boiling, she glanced around her classroom and prepared the tables by waving her wand and arranging teapots and cups on each. Most of her third year students detested reading tea leaves, and Ginny had to agree that it was an imprecise art. However, it had its merits and aside from palmistry and tarot card reading, was the easiest introduction to Divination. While Professor Trelawney may have had many faults where it came to interior design and was not as gifted a seer as Ginny, Ginny at least agreed with her syllabus of introducing the methods.

She was just pouring the water into her personal teapot, a sturdy, jade green pot with a Chinese Fireball dragon painted around it and the matching cup her brother, George, had given her after a trip to China, when her first class of the day began entering the room. They were third year Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students, a good combination, and their loud voices became hushed as they ascended the ladder leading to her class. She didn't have many rules for her classroom, but she expected them to speak in hushed tones and attempt to listen to the world around them.

Firenze had taught her that not only could she learn from the visions she had, but she could also see many things from the past, present, and even future if she paid close attention to the her surroundings. She sipped her tea silently, observing her students as they took their seats. Most of the chatter was about the Hogsmeade trip planned for the upcoming weekend, and naturally, they all were excited about seeing the quaint village for the first time.

As was par for the course, the girls took the tables closest to Ginny, and looked at her expectantly. Whereas, the boys sat further back, hoping to go unnoticed and slide by and eventually receive a passing O.W.L. While not everyone could have visions, Ginny thought anyone could have the foresight to read tea leaves, palms, and tarot cards somewhat accurately, even surly boys.

She smiled over her students, picked up a potholder and took the kettle from its hook, before walking slowly about the class, pouring the water into the pots on the tables by hand.

"Today, we will be learning the art of reading tea leaves," Ginny announced. "Any of you possess the ability to do this. The trick is to observe not only the message you think the leaves are telling you, but the drinker as well."

There were grumbles from the boys and the titters of excitement from the girls. No doubt, the girls already had visions of the leaves foretelling future romances and the like. Ginny recalled the days when girls in school who took Divination spent hours reading each other's palms and making up stories of what they hoped would happen. Ginny could have told them what was going to happen or, at least, given them a general idea if they had ever bothered to ask her. A few did, and some were happy with her predictions and others were not. Ginny had even tried to foresee her own future in the romance department, but soon realized, while she could read others easily enough, she couldn't read herself at all. Her future was a blank page, and try as she might, she could not see how her life was going to pan out.

"If you would, turn to page five of your textbooks, and look over the most common symbols found in Tasseography," Ginny explained, and waited for her students to pull out their textbooks, _Walking with Spirits: a Beginner's Guide to Future Sight _by Reza Singh. "When you are finished, drink your tea slowly, reflecting upon the one thing you most desire to know the answer to. Then give your cup to your partner and see what the leaves reveal."

She finished pouring the water into the last pot at a table that contained two Hufflepuff boys who studiously had their noses stuck in their books, making a show of doing what they were told. If Ginny were honest, she looked forward to the boys' predictions over the girls, because they were so entertaining. It never ceased to amaze her how differently boys thought than girls. While the girls would predict fairytale romances and the like, the boys tended to lean towards broken bones and illnesses, attempting to top each other with the number of gruesome injuries they could sustain. One boy last year had even predicted in great detail how his partner was going to break both his legs playing a game of Gobstones. Until that moment, Ginny had never thought of Gobstones being a particularly violent game that could lead to potential injuries, but had to give the boy credit for creativity.

Faint whispering began around her as her students began discussing the dregs in the bottoms of their cups. Two girls near the front of the class seemed particularly agitated and leaving the two boys who had yet to look up from their textbooks, Ginny headed towards the girls. Jessica, a curly-headed blonde, was holding tightly to the cup and sadly looking over at her best friend, Monica.

"Are you saying William is going to break up with me?" Monica asked, aghast as Ginny approached.

"I don't know," Jessica said, referencing the textbook beside her and looking in the cup again. "This bit here looks sort of like an arrow, which the book says means bad news. That could be anything."

"What else do you see?" Monica pressed.

"A duck?" Jessica said without much conviction.

"There isn't a duck in our book!" Monica exclaimed before railing on. "William isn't going to take me to Hogsmeade this weekend. He's going to go with that silly goose, Martha. I saw the way she was looking at him this morning."

"Maybe the duck is really a goose then?" Jessica suggested.

Ginny had to contain the snort that nearly escaped at the girls' conversation, instead she held out her hand and politely inquired, "May I see the cup, please?"

"Oh, Professor Weasley!" Monica said in relief before grabbing the cup out of Jessica's hands and pressing it into Ginny's. "Please tell me the truth. I can take it."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at this remark, but said no more. She had already felt that there was some form of bad news in store for Monica when her hand had brushed against Ginny's, but Ginny could not be certain yet what the news entailed. Studying the leaves a moment, she did see an arrow signifying bad news, but she also saw something that looked like a turnip. Vegetables meant unhappiness followed by contentment, so whatever the bad news, it couldn't be that terrible. Lastly, Ginny saw the duck, which looked more like a kettle to her and that meant a minor illness. She explained this to the girls and pointed out the symbols in their books that corresponded with what she saw in the cup.

"So, what do you think it means?" Monica asked in a small voice.

Setting the cup gently back in its saucer on the table, Ginny calmly looked Monica over. The girl looked pale, possibly from the fear of what she thought the cup portended for her, but if Ginny was not mistaken she had been coughing and sniffling when she entered the classroom. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nose was slightly raw from blowing in her handkerchief, no doubt.

"The flu has been making the rounds the past week or so," Ginny began, "and from the looks of it, Monica, you appear to be coming down with it. I suggest going to Madam Pomfrey as soon as class is over and taking a Pepper-Up. With any luck, you can head the cold off before it sets in and be able to go to Hogsmeade with William. However, if you do fall ill, I have no doubt you and William both will be terribly disappointed. I imagine he will bring you a small treat to boost your spirits."

"Really?" Monica asked. "Well, that's not such bad news, then, is it?" She looked over at Jessica who was eagerly picking her cup up and handing it to Ginny.

"Read mine!" she enthused and Ginny laughed, pushing the cup towards Monica.

"I can't do all your work for you," she gently admonished. "It's your turn." Jessica pouted slightly, but gave Monica her full attention as her friend attempted to make out what the leaves said.

Turning away from them, Ginny addressed the class, "By now, most of you should have already made some initial predictions. Please draw up what you think you see in the cups and write out your predictions and hand them in to me at the end of class."

The rest of class ran smoothly, and Ginny collected her students' work as they departed. After the last student had left, she gathered the pile of parchment together, evening out the edges before tucking it away in a drawer. She would have time later in the day to look them over.

The lesson had effectively taken her mind off her disturbing morning, and not having another class until after lunch, Ginny decided to head down to the teacher's lounge, hoping her best friend, Neville would have finished up with his morning class and be there, as well. Neville currently assisted Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and taught the lower classes, while she focused on the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. classes, but eventually Neville would take over her position as the Herbology professor.

Shoving the lounge door open, Ginny was glad to indeed find him there, already ensconced in a chair by the fire. He was reading the _Daily Prophet, _but looking up, laid it on the table beside him as she approached.

"Hi, Ginny," he greeted with a smile, "I missed you at breakfast this morning."

Ginny nodded, as she took the seat next to him. "Sorry, I had a bit of a slow start to the morning."

He studied her a moment, concern clear in his eyes. "Are you all right?"

Ginny glanced over at him. She could never hide from him as he knew her too well. They'd been friends since her third year, when her world had turned upside-down, but she was still a girl who had needs and desires. The Triwizard tournament had been held that year and even though she was battling an internal struggle to make sense of the visions and feelings she was receiving, she still had longed to attend the Yule Ball. She never thought anyone would ask her until Neville shyly approached her in the library one evening and had. She had nervously accepted, even though she had never given him a second glance and had tried to use her limited abilities to see if she had a future with him. As she was soon to discover, she was unable to see her future and instead only saw meaningless, murky shadows. Instead, she went with her instincts, which told her what she already knew, Neville was one of the nicest boys in the school.

They had had a pleasant time at the ball, and afterwards had spent more time together. At the next Hogsmeade trip, they went together and Neville gave her her first real kiss in a booth at the Three Broomsticks. While it had been tender and sweet, it had left Ginny feeling disappointed, as there wasn't the fire and passion she had expected. She sensed Neville felt the same disappointment at their lack of chemistry and not long after they both agreed they were much better off as friends.

It had been the right decision, and Neville remained her best friend. He understood her fluctuations in temperament and his gentle spirit and manner was exactly the calming rock she needed when she was feeling overwhelmed. He always listened when she had visions that troubled her.

"I had a disturbing dream last night about a woman," she began. "She was attacked. Some of the detail was so clear, Neville. I haven't had a vision like that since the war."

Neville rubbed his fingers above his upper lip as he studied her. "Have you seen the _Daily Prophet_ this morning, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head, "No. Why? Is there something in there about a woman being attacked?"

He picked up the paper he had laid aside and silently handed it to her. Swallowing, Ginny took the paper from him and looked down at the front page. **Pure-Blood Woman Found Dead** was all the headline said, but it was enough. Blurry images began forming in Ginny's mind. She could see the woman in greater detail, and realized she was nearer to Ginny's age than she had first suspected. She saw the victim's long, dark hair again as she struggled to escape her attacker, but this time when he flipped her over, Ginny could see the woman's frightened brown eyes. She had pleaded and struggled as he beat and violated her.

Gasping, Ginny pushed the awful vision away once more and quickly scanned the article. It didn't say anything about what the woman looked like or gave a name, which wasn't too uncommon, but it blatantly stated that there were no signs of rape. Ginny groaned as her head began aching from the pressure of the vision.

"Ginny?" Neville's voice sounded as if from the end of a long tunnel, echoing in her head and making it throb more. Leaning back in the chair, Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and laid her her head against the high back of the armchair.

"Same vision?" Neville pressed softly, leaning closer and gently rubbing her shoulder.

"Yes," Ginny muttered. "They're lying."

"The paper?" Neville scoffed. "Big surprise there."

"No, the Auror Office," Ginny explained. "And, I know my brother's on this case. I can see him looking over the file."

"Why would the Auror Office give the paper false information?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Ginny said, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to look over at her friend. "But I intend to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **Thanks to Arnel and seekers_destiny for all their beta work. Enjoy!

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Ginny pulled the black dragon-hide jacket she was wearing closer about her to ward off the chill in the air. Having shed her Hogwarts professorial robes before leaving to confront her brother, she had rifled through her wardrobe attempting to find something that would pass as Muggle. She'd finally found a faded red and gold Gryffindor Quidditch jersey and pair of jeans from her days as a student and been pleased that they still fit reasonably well. Both the jeans and jersey were a bit snugger than she remembered them being, but it had been five years since she had had cause to wear Muggle clothing of any type and she was bound to have gained a few pounds since being a teenager. Digging in the bottom of the her wardrobe she had pulled out the dragon hide jacket and a pair of heavy black boots Bill had given her last Christmas and decided they would finish off the ensemble well enough.

Now she was lurking outside the public entrance to the Ministry trying to look as inconspicuous as possible and hoping that her brother left for lunch soon. She knew his favourite place to eat was a pub right around the corner from the Ministry that served the greasiest fish and chips that Ron was constantly raving about. She'd made the mistake of going to lunch there with him one day, and had barely been able to swallow the salty, oleaginous mess in a basket that had been tossed on the table. Ron had finished both his lunch and hers, and she knew the only reason he had invited her was with the idea in mind that he'd have two lunches that day. His wife, Hermione, had warned Ginny and if Ginny had had sense, she would have saved herself an upset stomach and ordered the Ploughman's Lunch instead.

Today, she had used her gift and was nearly a hundred percent certain her brother would dine at the local pub, where everybody by now knew his name. She shifted her weight as she leaned against the wall opposite a row of fireplaces located at the back of a coffeehouse and avoided making eye contact with most of the Muggles who walked by. A few men whistled at her as they passed, causing her cheeks to burn even as she gave them a menacing look that sent them scurrying on their way, whatever thoughts passing through their minds quickly evaporating.

She was beginning to wonder if she had been mistaken about her brother when she finally spotted his head of bright red hair stepping out of a grate and bobbing above all the other Ministry workers going to lunch. At six feet two inches, Ron towered over most people. Add that to his broad shoulders and brawny arms and legs, and he struck an impressive figure, especially when wearing his Auror uniform. At the moment he had shed the dark blue cloak Aurors normally wore and strode towards her wearing a neatly pressed white dress shirt and dark blue trousers (Hermione's handy-work, no doubt). His dark blue silk tie was knotted with a perfect double Windsor knot and his black loafers shined so brightly they reflected the pale noon day sun.

Waving, Ginny caught his attention immediately and he smiled broadly as he approached her.

"Ginny," he said in surprise as he pulled her into a tight hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you standing out here, looking like a..." he held her at arm's length to study her outfit, and his mouth formed a grim line as his eyes narrowed. "Like a biker punk."

"What's a biker punk?" Ginny asked.

"Dunno, it's a Muggle thing," Ron said with a shrug, "But you look it. So, what brings you here? Want to try the fish and chips again?"

"Ergh, no," Ginny said, pulling a face, before looking up at her brother seriously. "I need to talk to you."

"All right," Ron said, immediately catching on to her tone, "Let's go to the pub and we can find a quiet booth there to talk."

They walked quickly around the corner, and from the odd looks they were receiving, Ginny deduced they made a strange duo. She was glad when they reached The Wolf and Jury and Ron pulled the thick oak door open by the brass handle. A brass bell above the door tinkled as they entered. Brass wall sconces made to look like turn of the century gas lamps hung on the walls over the booths that sat opposite a long bar. A few patrons sat at a couple of the booths, but the pub was surprisingly quiet. The whitewashed walls, along with all the brass lended a brightness to the pub, even on the darkest of days.

A lone barkeep, with cropped brown hair and watery blue eyes stepped out of the swinging doors that led to the kitchen behind the bar, cleaning a pint glass with a cloth; an action it seemed all bartenders did whenever they didn't have anything better to do. He waved cheerily over at Ron when he saw who had entered.

"Hello, Ron!" he called, and his eyes lit up when he saw Ginny. "And you brought your lovely sister with ya'!"

"Don't get any ideas, Simon," Ron growled, causing Ginny to roll her eyes.

"Didn't have none, I promise," Simon declared.

"Bring us some pints?" Ron called and Ginny raised an eyebrow at her brother as he steered her towards a booth in the back.

"Don't go Auror on me, big brother. I can take care of myself."

"I told you you looked too sexy," Ron muttered as she slipped into one side of the booth and he the other.

"That's not what you said," Ginny said, scowling over at her brother.

"It's what I meant," Ron muttered, taking a menu from the holder by the wall and shoving it towards her. "I already know what I want."

Ginny sighed. "Don't pout, Ron. I can't help I grew up. So did you." She glanced over at him. "I never thought I'd see you looking so put together."

"You can thank Hermione for that," Ron said. "She doesn't let me leave the house until I meet her exacting standards."

"It looks good on you," Ginny commented, looking over the menu.

Ron's cheeks flushed slightly. "Thanks. So," he began slowly, "what did you need to see me about? Don't you have classes this afternoon?"

"Just sixth years in Double Divination," Ginny explained. "I set them to meditate and write a five foot essay on what they experience."

"That sounds excruciating," Ron said, pulling a face and Ginny snorted.

"Just because you thought taking Divination would bring you an easy O.W.L., Ron, doesn't mean that is why everyone takes it," Ginny scolded. "My sixth years are dedicated to honing their craft. They won't have any problem writing the essays."

"If you say so," Ron commented as Simon approached with the pints.

"Can I take your order, miss?" he asked politely after setting the pints down on the table.

Quickly scanning the menu, Ginny ordered the cottage pie and Ron ordered his usual.

"It'll be out shortly," Simon said cheerily before retreating behind the bar and disappearing through the swinging doors.

"So, what did you want to see me about?" Ron asked again, taking a long draught of his pint.

"I had a vision this morning," Ginny said. "Vivid and disturbing."

"About what?" Ron warily asked.

"About a case I think you may be working on," Ginny stated.

"Hold on a moment," her brother said, looking quickly around the pub before unsheathing his wand from his sleeve under the table. He cast a silent _Muffliato_ over the table before continuing to speak. "What have you seen?"

"A woman, violated," Ginny replied with a shudder. "I think she was a Slytherin, but I can't be certain, her face wasn't clear. Why doesn't the article in the paper mention either of those things? In fact, the article blatantly says she was not sexually molested, Ron! That's a lie, I know it!"

Ron sighed. "I'm not heading the case, so I don't talk to the press, Ginny, but what does it matter?"

"Because!" Ginny exclaimed as Ron waved his hands at her to lower her voice even though his spell still surrounded them. "Because, the public deserves to know the truth."

"We don't have any leads, at all, and not much hope of getting any," Ron softly confessed. "There weren't any concrete clues left at the crime scene and Robards is already threatening to call it a cold case unless we can come up with something. Why cause undue concern until we have to?"

"I suppose you are right," Ginny conceded. "But it's a horrific crime."

"I know," Ron glumly stated. "That's why it's frustrating that we have nothing to go on."

Simon appeared at the table, holding a tray laden with their order and looking confused. "Were you just talking to me?" he asked.

"No," Ron said calmly, and with a slight motion of his arm under the table, Ginny knew he was dropping the spell surrounding them. Simon visibly eased. He placed a basket laden with greasy fish and chips in front of Ron and a plain white crock containing Ginny's cottage pie.

"Enjoy!" he said cheerily before leaving them to their meal.

Ginny poked at her pie with her fork, mixing the mashed potatoes with the beef and vegetables beneath. Steam rose from the crock as she took a tiny bite, only to find it nearly as greasy as Ron's meal looked. She quickly took a drink from her pint, which thankfully was cool and washed most of the taste away.

"You're spoiled by the food at Hogwarts," Ron commented, taking a large bite of his fish.

"I suppose," Ginny said, shoving the crock towards him. "Listen, Ron. I want to help."

Ron looked over at her. "What? Finish my lunch?"

"No," Ginny said exasperated. "With the case. Let me help you."

Ron shook his head. "Why? You gave up doing that, remember? When you realized it was futile to try to change the future?"

His eyes filled with a deep sadness, and blinking rapidly, he looked out the window for a moment, collecting himself. She knew he was thinking, as she was of their brother, Fred. He and his twin, George had been class clowns while at Hogwarts, but also brilliant inventors and spell casters. While at school they had started a mail-order jokes catalogue and she had known then they were destined to be successful business entrepreneurs. However, not long before they finished their final year at Hogwarts, the war against Voldemort took a turn for the worse, and they decided to join Professor Dumbledore's secret army, the Order of the Phoenix. Their mum had been beside herself, saying it was bad enough their older brothers, Bill and Charlie, along with their father were involved with the Order, but Fred and George would hear nothing of it.

Not long after, Ginny experienced a nightmare where she witnessed Fred falling to his death from what she thought was one of the towers at Hogwarts. She had begged him never to return to Hogwarts, telling him of her vision and he had agreed, but soon after she saw him step into a street in London to be struck by a bus. No matter what she did to warn him of his imminent death, she would see him die some other way. Finally, he had told her that it was clear there was no way to prevent the inevitable and he didn't want to live the rest of his life trying to do so. In the end he had died during the Final Battle, struck down while defending a group of fleeing under-aged students at Hogwarts. His death had given them the time they needed to escape unscathed, and Fred had died a hero.

"I know," Ginny said. "But this isn't about changing anyone's future. This is about catching a killer."

"I don't know, Ginny," Ron said uncertainly.

"You just said you don't have any leads and not much hope of finding any," Ginny pressed. "I'm that hope."

Ron thought her offer over while he finished his lunch as well as hers. Ginny waited patiently, looking out the window next to their table and watching the Muggles walking past. Most looked harried, probably having taken too long at lunch and now rushing back to work before they were too late. Others strolled slowly along the sidewalk, clearly with no place in particular they needed to be.

"All right," Ron finally conceded, wiping his mouth with his napkin before dropping it in his empty chips basket. "I'll go back to the office and see if I can talk the Senior Auror on the case into coming to speak with you."

"Why would you have to talk him into it?" Ginny asked. "If he doesn't have any leads, you'd think he'd be happy for the help."

"Not this bloke," Ron said, studying his sister. "He doesn't have the best track record with seers. Actually, he can't stand them."

"Why's that?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Ron said. "He's not exactly forthcoming with details about himself, I've just heard it through the rumour mill."

"You'll have to convince him to give me a chance," Ginny stated firmly. "I know I can help you, Ron."

Her brother nodded, pulling his wallet from his trouser pocket and taking out a thin plastic card she knew was a Muggle form of payment. Waving at Simon, the bartender came over and accepted the card, retreating behind the bar to swipe it next to something that looked like a television set. He returned with a small tray that contained the card Ron had given him along with a slip of paper and a pen.

Ron signed the paper, and pocketing the card, thanked Simon for the excellent lunch. He then escorted Ginny silently outside and they headed towards the public Apparition point that was located near the fireplaces Ginny had been loitering by earlier.

"I'll try to stop by Hogwarts later this afternoon," Ron said as they approached the Ministry entrance. "We have some paper work we have to do, but that shouldn't take too long. If I can convince him, we'll be around about four. All right?"

"That's fine," Ginny said. "I'll be in my classroom, grading papers. I'll see you later."

She gave him a hug before stepping onto the Apparition point. Waving a final good-bye she spun away just as Ron was turning to head back to the Ministry. As he was fading from her view Ginny realized that not only had he not told her who the Senior Auror on the case was, but try as she might, she couldn't see the man for herself either.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When Ginny returned to Hogwarts, classes were just finishing up for the day and students were streaming outside to enjoy the last few hours of the afternoon before supper. A few gave her odd looks at her attire, but she smiled brightly at them and headed directly towards her classroom. She was bit disconcerted that she could not see Ron's partner, but she wasn't too concerned. Sometimes it was more difficult to see someone she had never met, but that would soon change in just a few hours if all went well on Ron's end.

Putting it from her mind for the time being, Ginny settled at her desk, opened her desk drawer and removed the pile of parchment from her first class of the day and began looking over the predictions. She was about half-way through the pile when a soft knock came at the trap door.

"Come in," she called, shoving the pile of parchment aside and looking at the door expectantly. The door opened, and Ron's head popped into view.

"Hello, Ginny," he greeted. "I brought someone for you to meet."

He climbed into the room and immediately moved to the side to allow the Auror behind him to enter. The first thing Ginny noticed was a mass of messy black hair hanging down into a familiar pair of green eyes glinting behind silver, wire-framed glasses that appeared above the trap door. While her brother cut an impressive figure in his dark blue Auror robes and pressed shirt and trousers, his partner looked little better than a dishevelled school boy as he climbed all the way into her classroom. As a matter of fact, if Ginny hadn't already known Ron would be stopping by with the Senior Auror on the case, she would have thought the man with him was nothing more than an under-achieving seventh year. It looked as though he had slept in his wrinkled blue robes and his sloppily knotted dark blue tie had been loosened and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone. A tail of the shirt hung out over his navy trousers that hung loosely on his narrow hips and she followed his long legs down to a pair of scuffed trainers. He seemed to be a few inches shorter than her brother, but it was hard to tell with his bad posture.

"Er, Ginny," Ron began waving his arm towards her. "This is Auror Harry Potter. Harry, this is my sister, Ginny, Ginny Weasley."

Ginny's eyes widened and automatically flicked to the thick shock of fringe covering his forehead and she thought his untidy hair may be somewhat deliberate, as she could not see his infamous lightning bolt scar. Her cheeks coloured as she realized she had done what probably every single person before her had done when first introduced to him.

Harry gruffly nodded in her general direction, appearing not to notice her staring as he slouched further into the room, his eyes roving about him. Ginny had the distinct impression he was cataloguing all points of exit and entry. She raised her eyebrows at her brother, who merely shrugged, and remained standing by the door.

Rising from her chair, Ginny moved around her desk with her hand outstretched to greet Harry properly, but froze when his eyes finally alighted upon her and he took her proffered hand.

Ginny had hoped once she touched him she would gain a better sense of who he was as a person, but she was shocked to find out she couldn't read him at all. It was like he was a blank slate, as empty as her future seemed to be any time she tried to see her destiny. Gazing into his eyes, she realized why they seemed so familiar, and she gripped his hand tighter. He was the boy she had seen die countless of times, but somehow, until this moment, even after seeing his pictures in the papers, she had never realized Harry Potter was the boy from her very first vision.

Gasping, she saw him standing alone in a clearing, his wand hanging limply at his side. His face showed resignation and weariness, and she knew he wanted to die. His desperation for it to be finished hung in the air of the clearing. Indistinct taunts from the Dark Lord carried to Harry's ears, but he refused to rise to the bait and eventually, dropped his wand to the ground. Enraged, the Dark Lord hissed the Killing Curse and Harry's eyes widened in fear and surprise as the curse struck him square in the chest. He was enveloped in a sickly green light and falling backward, his body hit the ground with a soft thud. His amazingly green eyes stared sightlessly up at the tall trees above his head. Cackling laughter filled the air, followed by screaming, but all Ginny could see was the young boy, barely eighteen laying on the ground, dead. You couldn't escape death.

The man standing before her was far from eighteen, and must be closer to twenty-three or twenty-four. It was impossible for him to still be alive, because even if he had managed to avoid the death she had foreseen, some other end would have found him by now. Fred's demise was evidence enough of that.

"Is she all right?" Harry was asking, looking over his shoulder at Ron and attempting to extract his hand from her grip.

"Ginny," Ron said slowly, moving forward and tugging gently on her arm.

Coming to her senses, Ginny allowed the hand still holding Harry's to fall to her side and he began flexing his fingers to regain feeling.

"That was some show," he said sourly, "but I'm going to need more proof than you going all starry-eyed holding my hand and 'reading' me. Want to tell me what you think you saw?"

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing, I didn't see anything."

Harry snorted in derision, "Figures. No one ever does."

"Do you mean seers in general or anyone attempting to read you?" Ginny asked, wondering if he had gone to seers in the past and been disappointed that they couldn't read him, as she could not.

"I don't make it a habit of seeking seers out, if that is what you are implying," Harry said defensively, giving Ginny and her classroom another once over. "You don't look much like a seer to me, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked, her eyes beginning to blaze as her momentary disconcertedness faded.

"We don't need to," Ron began, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"I mean, where's the incense, lace and chiffon?" Harry asked. "I've never met a seer before who wore dragon hide jackets and boots."

Ginny eyed him scathingly, "I take offense to that remark, and I could say the same about you. Isn't there a dress code at the Auror office?"

"I meet the dress code," Harry said defensively, tugging on his tie, loosening it even more before ruffling his hair in frustration. "Look, your brother says you are the real deal. I happen to think highly of him and thought it was worth a shot. Do you want to accompany us to the abduction scene or not?"

Ginny blinked dumbly at him, his sudden turn in conversation blind-siding her from any further caustic remarks she had on the tip of her tongue.

"You know where the abduction site is?" she asked incredulously. "Ron said you didn't have any leads."

Harry shot Ron a hard look that caused him to shift uncomfortably on his feet as an apologetic look crossed her brother's face.

"We have an idea," Harry ground out. "We were going to check it out when your brother suggested taking you along. Do you want to come or not?"

"Of course," Ginny immediately answered, moving towards the door. "Where are we going?"

"I'd rather not give you any more details," Harry evasively replied, his lips curving up into an acerbic smile. "I'd like to see what you come up with all on your own."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Stepping out of the grate at the Leaky Cauldron, Ginny was surprised to see Ron and Harry standing by the door that led to Muggle London instead of the back entrance to Diagon Alley, further confirming her thought that it was indeed a Muggle site. Weaving through the tables she joined them by the door, refraining from saying anything, but feeling slightly uncomfortable at the way Harry was silently observing her as he held the door open. Not being able to tell what a person was thinking or feeling was throwing her off her game. Ron's feelings were evident enough. Ginny could feel his anxiety to come up with some concrete evidence they could present to their superior officer, as well as his apprehension and guilt at agreeing to let her help them.

Harry's green eyes were as emotionless as his aura and she shivered slightly underneath his piercing gaze. Ignoring him as best she could, she moved past him and exited the Leaky Cauldron to stand in the middle of the pavement. A few Muggles walked past, oblivious to the door Ginny had just exited from and which Ron and Harry were now emerging. The two Aurors stood against the wall, allowing the Muggles to pass, but Ginny remained rooted to the spot. She was already gaining a sense that the abduction had happened right where she was standing.

Turning slowly in a circle, she surveyed the surroundings. A nondescript black car was parked at the curb directly in front of the Leaky and several others were parked further down the narrow road of Charing Cross. Closing her eyes, Ginny opened the channels within her and immediately felt the psychokinetic disturbances that still hung in the air.

"I see a lorry," Ginny murmured, "parked near where this black car is now."

"What colour?" Harry's voice sounded from a distance.

Ginny strained to see the colour of the lorry. Its image wavered before her. "Light. White, perhaps. There is writing on the side."

"What does it say?" Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head. "It's blurry and there is a figure of a man leaning against it, blocking the lettering. He's talking to her. She knows him."

"What's he look like?" Ron excitedly asked.

"It's too dark to see," Ginny replied apologetically. "The light from the streetlamp across the street is casting him in shadow." She watched as the shadowy man casually drew his wand. "He's a wizard. She's backing towards the door to the Leaky, but he's too quick. He Disarms and Stuns her. He's dragging her to the back of the lorry, there's some sort of large box on the back he's locking her inside. His spell has worn off and she's screaming, but no one can hear her outside the box. Ah, he's driving away. I can't, can't read the writing, it's too dark. I'm sorry."

Ginny opened her eyes to find both Harry and Ron staring at her. Ron was nodding his head in approval while Harry looked somewhat shaken and surprisingly enough, disappointed.

"Damn," he softly uttered.

Ginny wasn't sure if his curse was because he was dismayed at the lack of information she had been able to give them or because he was shocked to find that she may actually have the gift of sight. Either way, she took it as a positive step.

"Let me, let me try again," Ginny said, closing her eyes and replaying the scenario in her mind's eye. She tried to see the lorry from a different angle as it sped away. The light from the street lamp flashed across the side revealing faded blue lettering. Rewinding the scene, she attempted to slow the vision down. Ron was murmuring worriedly behind her, and she felt his hands reaching for her, but she irritably batted them away.

The lorry slowed significantly as it passed her the second time around, and she was able to determine its colour.

"It's definitely white," she muttered. The light again flickered over the side of the vehicle, and squinting, Ginny strained to make out what it said. "I see blue letters. A... capital B and a... k." The truck disappeared down the road and Ginny blew her breathe out in frustration. "I'm sorry, that's all I could make out."

"But it's something," Ron said, turning to his partner. "More than we had."

"But not enough," Harry ground out. "There must be thousands of white lorries in London alone."

"How many wizards do you know drive lorries?" Ron asked.

"It's not that easy, and you know it," Harry replied. "We have a vehicle, but we don't have a suspect."

He stepped away from the door to the tavern and approached the black car Ginny was standing by. Unsheathing his wand from his sleeve, he unlocked the driver's side door before opening the back door.

"Let's go for a ride," he said, indicating that Ginny should sit in the back seat.

"Where are we going now?" Ginny asked.

"To the crime scene," Harry replied and Ginny felt a trickle of fear run down her back.

"In a car?" she nervously asked. She had never ridden in a car before; the idea was completely foreign to her. Her father had tinkered with a car when she was a girl, but Fred and George had borrowed it one evening not long after their father had repaired it, and managed to crash it into a Muggle's mailbox who lived down the lane. Her mum had made their father get rid of the car before anyone else had had a chance to go for a ride in it. "Why can't we Apparate there?"

"Because the killer drove there, and it's in a highly populated Muggle area," Harry explained. "As a matter of fact, I don't think there are any Wizard-folk registered living there." He appeared to notice Ginny's apprehension and attempted to ease her fear. "Don't worry, this car has been modified to avoid the traffic. We'll be there in no time, and then it will be like a leisurely drive in the countryside. Right, Ron?"

"Right, nothing to worry about," Ron assured. "It's no more dangerous than riding a broom, Ginny, and you're an expert at that."

Harry's interest was piqued by this statement and he turned back to Ginny who shrugged. "I played Quidditch while at school. Seeker," she finished lamely, wondering why she was even telling Harry any of her past history.

"You must be a fair flyer, then," he said approvingly. "Sorry, but car is still the best way to get there."

He continued to hold the door open and waited patiently for Ginny to collect herself and clamber clumsily into the back seat. She scowled at the smirk that had appeared on Harry's face, but he didn't seem to care about her annoyance, and slammed the door shut. He opened the driver's door and slid gracefully behind the wheel, causing Ginny to glower at him further, but her brother distracted her, by turning around in his seat after he had climbed in the car.

"Fasten your seatbelt, Ginny," he said, pointing to the strange buckles that lay on the seat beside her. She picked them up and pulled them onto her lap. Her father had similar contraptions in his shed at home, and she vaguely remembered how they worked. After a minute of fumbling, she managed to hear the click informing her she had successfully latched the two bits together about her waist.

Harry waved his wand over the wheel in front of him, bringing the car to life. It hummed quietly, and Ginny felt her body vibrating slightly. Pulling slowly away from the curb, Harry adjusted the rear-view mirror until she could see his eyes looking at her.

"Hold on tight," he warned and with a sudden jolt, the car lurched forward. Ginny couldn't help the small shriek that escaped her lips as her body was pressed back into the seat as the buildings blurred outside the car windows. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as they whisked past cars that appeared to be standing still in the road. They hurtled along, swerving rapidly to the right and left, her body swaying back and forth with the motion of the car. After becoming acclimated to the strange sensation, she risked opening her eyes and focused on the street lamps, shop signs, and traffic lights. They were nothing more than intermittent streaks of coloured light streaming past the windows until they disappeared completely and the car was outside the city and travelling along darkening, country roads.

She relaxed as the car appeared to slow down to a more normal pace and the ride became, as Harry had said, a leisurely drive. She unclenched her fists, that she hadn't even realized had been closed tightly in the first place and rubbed her sweaty palms along the tops of her thighs. Placing her hands on the supple leather of the seat, she looked out the window at the passing countryside. Rain clouds were rolling in over the horizon, obscuring the setting sun. On both sides of the road were open pastures, butting up to a scraggly forest.

Ginny audibly inhaled as they suddenly turned onto a rutted, dirt lane, and bounced along heading towards a portion of the forest.

"All right, Ginny?" Ron asked with concern, and turned to glance over his shoulder at her.

Ginny nodded. "We're getting close."

Harry looked at her sharply in the rear-view mirror, but refrained from saying anything, for which Ginny was glad, as she wasn't certain she could formulate any more coherent sentences. She could feel the darkness of the area seeping into her and closed her eyes. She could imagine the lorry barrelling down this lane and could feel the faint echoes of the woman's mounting terror, locked in a dark box, with no idea what was going to happen to her, and being jostled around unforgivably.

The lane narrowed as the trees surrounded them, and after another half mile, the car came to a stop. The feelings of terror and hatred were heavy in the air around them, and Ginny took a moment to collect herself and the images accosting her.

Ron and Harry stepped out of the car, and as Ron moved around the front of the car, Harry opened Ginny's door. Blinking up at him, Ginny was surprised to see him holding out his hand to help her out of the car. Hesitantly, she reached up and took his hand for the second time that day. She felt an odd sensation rush through her, settling into the pit of her stomach.

"Take your time," he said, as if he somehow could sense her sudden discomfort, and gently tugged on her arm. Ginny followed the pull of his hand and slipped off the seat to stand by the open door. Once she was standing, he dropped her hand and went to speak with Ron, leaving Ginny feeling oddly disappointed. She wanted to contemplate the strange feelings, but the awful visions of the murder were weighing down upon her now that she was standing in the middle of the forest. It was all she could focus on and the fleeting feeling holding Harry's hand had caused faded.

Walking slowly away from the car, Ginny paused a moment to get her bearings. Ron and Harry's murmuring voices faded as she entered the past and began moving through the forest.

Again she could hear the woman's ragged breathing up ahead of her. She had managed to break free of her pursuer, no, that wasn't right. He let her go, knowing there was nowhere she could run, and wanting to enjoy the chase. He wanted her to feel the terror of being hunted down like an animal; like something less than human.

Her screams echoed through the silent forest, stirring up wildlife around her. A small rabbit sprang from its hiding place amongst the brush and an owl swooped out of the trees above in pursuit. They both disappeared into the darkness, but not long after a sharp squeal told her the rabbit had been ensnared in the sharp talons of the owl.

Lights flashed across Ginny's eyes, momentarily blinding her.

_"Somebody help me!"_ the woman ahead of her futilely screamed, perhaps not realizing that a Muggle in a passing car would never hear her.

A flash of red streaked through the forest, striking the fleeing woman and causing her to stumble to the ground.

"He struck her down here," Ginny said out loud, knowing her brother and Harry were silently following her.

Ginny moved forward a few more paces before kneeling down and touching the earth.

"Here," she said. "It happened here."

The woman was pleading, as the killer wrenched her thick dark brown hair tighter, exposing her throat. His wand illuminated the terrified brown eyes and button nose of the woman and Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

"It's Daphne Greengrass!" she whispered. Ginny's stomach churned with revulsion at what the former Slytherin had been put through and her own combating emotion that Daphne deserved to be tortured and murdered. Daphne had been one of the prettiest girls in the school, and many boys, not just Slytherins had fancied her. She had taunted Ginny on many occasions. It had been bad enough when Daphne was making fun of her pale skin, freckles and flaming red hair, but once Ginny began having 'episodes' before she had learned to control her gift, the teasing had turned cruel. Of course, Ginny hadn't been alone, as Daphne and her clique had tormented anyone they thought was remotely different.

"We didn't release a name to the press," Harry muttered behind Ginny, drawing her back to the nearer present and the images she was receiving.

"She's begging," Ginny continued. Raindrops began falling, dripping down from the trees and trickling on her scalp, but she was lost in the vision. She felt the killer pushing Daphne back against the soggy ground and the woman's screams once again pierced the air around them. Ginny cried as she felt phantom slashes against her chest and abdomen, and her hands flailed in front of her futilely trying to ward off the spells. His face loomed before her eyes, blurred. Reluctantly, she rewound the scene and once again attempted to slow down the images bombarding her. She choked as she felt the slashes once again, and this time also felt warm blood seeping out of the numerous wounds.

With her chest heaving as she panted for breath, Ginny looked up to see the silhouette of the killer. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light from his wand, but she saw long hair framing a thin, sallow face. His hands closed around Daphne's neck, physically squeezing the life out of her.

"He's average height, thin, long haired," Ginny heaved before she collapsed to the damp earth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to Arnel and seekers_destiny for their beta work and Brennus for Brit-picking. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really appreciate reviews whether good or bad as they help me improve as a writer. Enjoy a bit of fluff before the holiday!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny woke to find Ron kneeling over her, looking quite concerned and Harry hovering behind him, looking extremely guilty and shifting uncomfortably on his feet. With Ron's aid she slowly sat up and gazed around the forest. She could hear the rain pattering on the dry leaves on the ground around them, and see the droplets streaming down the sides of an invisible shield that either her brother or Harry had erected to keep them dry.

"What happened?" she groggily asked, rubbing her throbbing temples.

"You fainted," Ron said. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I never would have brought you out here if I thought it'd affect you this way."

Ginny swallowed hard, unconsciously rubbing her throat with shaking hands where she had felt the phantom killer wringing the life out of Daphne Greengrass. "Was I right about it being Daphne?" she rasped, and she wondered if she'd been screaming before she passed out. Glancing up and seeing the guarded look Harry was giving her, she had to surmise that she must have done a bit more than just scream. It was always embarrassing when her body responded to the memories she was encountering, like a mime acting out in an invisible world only she could see.

"Yes," he confirmed, his voice sounding somewhat shaken.

Ginny nodded. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better description of the murderer's face."

"You did enough," Harry answered before taking a step towards her and kneeling next to Ron. "I take it you knew Daphne, as well?" Ginny glanced up at him, wincing as a stab of pain lanced through her neck. She could feel a migraine quickly approaching, and the last thing she wanted was to wind up being sick in front of her brother and his partner.

She nodded. "May I have some water?"

"Oh, sorry," Harry murmured and quickly conjured a glass that Ron filled. Holding it out to Ginny, her fingers brushed the back of Harry's hand as she took the glass. Again she felt her stomach anxiously churn, and past images of his death flashed through her mind. She shoved them aside in frustration, irritated that every time she touched him, that was all she ever saw and nothing more. She'd worry she was losing her touch if she hadn't just experienced the nightmarish images of Daphne's murder.

"I think I need to rest," she said, attempting to rise. Ron assisted her, but all the same she stumbled, and Harry instinctively reached out and grabbed her elbow.

They silently guided her back to the car, and opening the rear door, Ron eased Ginny onto the seat. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the soft leather. Her neck and shoulders ached with tension and she rolled her head a few times attempting to ease the stiffness. Taking deep, cleansing breaths, she tried to clear her mind of the after images of the vision and only vaguely felt the car shudder to life and distantly heard Ron's and Harry's murmuring voices. The faint vibration of the vehicle as it eased back down the lane helped lull Ginny into a half sleep and she wasn't even aware of it when they broke free of the trees or of the tires leaving the ground as the car rose into the air.

She awoke to the sound of crunching gravel, and opening her eyes recognized the flickering torches that lined the streets of Hogsmeade ahead of them. The rest had done her some good and her headache had subsided so that it was only a dull ache in her temples.

"How did we get here so quickly?" Ginny asked, rubbing at her eyes and sitting forward in her seat.

"Flew," Harry stated succinctly.

"What doesn't this car do?" Ginny asked.

"Haven't figured out how to make it go underwater yet," Harry answered and Ron chuckled beside him, before turning around in his seat to solemnly gaze at Ginny.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Ginny assured him. "But I could really use a drink." She glanced out the window. "Mind dropping me at the Hog's Head? Just make a left at the next street, please, Harry."

"I wouldn't mind an ale before we call it a day," Ron chimed, clearly in agreement with his sister that there was nothing like a stiff drink to take the edge off. After what she had just experienced, Ginny was definitely feeling the need to dull her senses just a bit.

"What do you say, Harry?" Ron asked, nudging Harry in the arm.

"I was planning on heading back to the office and begin looking into the leads Ginny gave us," Harry said, to which Ron pulled a face.

"Come on, Harry!" Ron criticized. "One drink won't kill you."

Ginny cringed at her brother's macabre choice of words, the fresh look from earlier in the afternoon of Harry's supposed death returning to her. Harry, however, didn't seem to mind Ron's unknowing gaffe and merely grunted his reluctant agreement to join them.

Making a left at the next lane, they bounced over the uneven cobblestoned road until they came to the grey and ramshackle building that housed The Hog's Head. It held the reputation as a gathering place for the disreputable denizens of Hogsmeade, but really it was the pub of choice for Hogwarts professors looking for privacy and a stiffer drink than what could be found at the Three Broomsticks.

Harry parked the car by the curb in front of the establishment, clearly not too concerned at how out of place the vehicle was in the quaint, turn-of-the-century atmosphere of the small village. The flickering gas lamps along the pavement cast warm light over the car's shiny black surface. He and Ron opened their doors and stepped out.

Taking their cue, Ginny fumbled with her own door, but couldn't figure out how to open it. Blowing her breath out in frustration, she pulled out her wand and waved it at the door, causing it to spring wildly open, the hinges groaning in protest.

"Easy!" Harry groused, slamming his own door shut and grabbing the handle of the rear door to ease its shuddering. Ginny couldn't help but notice the unconcealed concern that flashed briefly in his eyes as they swept over her after ensuring the car door was still attached.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," he muttered. "I would have gotten that for you." He indicated her door with a feeble gesture of his hand.

"I think I'll remember that for next time," Ginny said as she managed to step out with a bit more grace than previously. Only when she was standing and noticed the odd look Harry was giving her, did she realize what she had said. "If there is a next time, I mean."

"I hope we can catch the killer before then," Harry responded, and Ginny merely nodded, needing the drink more than ever. She hadn't been thinking about seeing him again in context of helping with the case and she couldn't begin to explain why her thoughts were even moving in that direction. Harry had to be the most closed-lipped person she had ever met, not to mention only having shown a modicum of emotion since she had met him. He most definitely was not giving her any sign that he saw her as anything else but an asset to the case he was currently working.

Coming to her senses, she realized Harry had left her side on the pavement and had already entered the pub. Ron stood holding the door and apparently had been calling her name.

"Sorry," she murmured, walking past him to enter the dimly lit building. As usual only a few patrons graced the owner, Aberforth with their presence. Ginny spotted the Astronomy instructor who had been teaching at Hogwarts for at least as long as Ginny had attended and worked there, Professor Aurora Sinistra sharing a corner booth with the Muggle Studies professor, Joseph Blahner. Ginny had always known there was something between the two of them, despite the fact that they were polar opposites in every sense of the word. Aurora was a dark-skinned beauty with thick black hair that flowed past her waist, while everything about Joseph was pale; pale skin, hair, and eyes. Aurora was quiet and reserved, while Joseph was loud and boisterous. Aurora was an Aries, and Joseph was a Cancer; two signs that were usually incompatible, but somehow, their extreme differences seemed to work for them.

Ginny waved casually to them as well as Aberforth, who stood behind the bar, looking as he always did, as if he could care less whether anyone was there or not. She followed Ron, who was headed to a corner booth on the opposite side of the room from where Joseph was loudly and enthusiastically entertaining Aurora with a tale from his classes that day. Harry sat by the wall in the booth facing them, clearly so he could watch the door. Ron waited for Ginny to slide into the booth opposite Harry before settling next to her.

"So, what's everybody having?" he asked, looking between Ginny and Harry.

"I'd like a shot of Ogden's," Ginny immediately answered.

"I'll have the same," Harry said.

"I'll be right back," Ron said, sliding back out of the booth and heading back towards the bar to procure their drinks.

Ginny clasped her hands in her lap and glanced over at Harry, who was staring fixedly down at his own clenched fists that rested on the scuffed tabletop.

"So, er, about earlier," he began, tearing his gaze away from his hands to look at her. "Sorry about that in your classroom. You just weren't what I was expecting."

"Clearly," Ginny replied, "I suppose I could say the same about you."

Harry nodded his head, knitting his long fingers together and tapping his thumbs nervously together. He looked past her shoulder towards the bar where Ron was still ordering their drinks before looking back at her.

"Do you come here often?" he awkwardly asked, clearly trying to make conversation and Ginny couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and blinked rapidly at him. So far she had not been able to make heads or tails of him and being unable to read him was making it all the more difficult to gain an accurate sense of who Harry was as a person.

"No, I don't," she answered hoping the scowl her giggling had caused to appear on Harry's face would vanish. "You?"

"No," he answered shortly and averted his gaze to study the dusty lamp hanging above their table. They fell into an awkward silence, but Ron arrived shortly with a tray containing three shots of Ogden's and three goblets of Elvish Flaming Ale. Setting it on the end of the table he passed Ginny and Harry each a shot and a goblet before resuming his seat and taking the last two drinks for himself.

"Well, here's to finding the killer sooner rather than later," he said, raising his shot glass. Harry and Ginny did the same and all three of them drank the fiery liquid. Ron quickly took a large gulp of his ale as a chaser, while Ginny took a small sip of her own and Harry merely wrapped one hand around the sweating goblet sitting before him.

"Didn't I tell you Ginny was the real thing, Harry?" Ron asked, giving Ginny a warm look of praise.

"You did," Harry agreed in a noncommittal tone.

"We never would have known any of the details of the lorry without your help, Ginny," Ron stated, taking another large gulp of his ale.

"So, what happens now?" Ginny asked.

"Well, the white lorry is circumstantial evidence," Harry said. "We only have what you saw. Robards is going to need more."

"But, I linked it to the killer," Ginny protested.

"True," Harry agreed with a nod, "but, we need to find the lorry and hopefully that will lead us to the killer. Finding the lorry will take time."

"But not tonight," Ron said firmly, waving at Aberforth for another round and glancing at his watch as he did so. "Bloody hell! Is that the actual time? I was supposed to have met Hermione and her parents for dinner a half hour ago!"

"I'll take you," Harry said, beginning to slide out of the booth.

"No, I'll just Apparate, it'll be quicker. You two stay and finish your drinks," Ron said, the frantic look in his eyes making Ginny snicker. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for your help tonight, Ginny. Be sure to get some rest."

Ginny nodded as he strode out of the pub in a rush of billowing robes. Still chuckling, Ginny looked over at Harry who had a bemused expression on his face.

"I take it you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Hermione yet," she commented.

"No," Harry said with a small shake of his head. "I've been working abroad for the Auror Office, tracking the last of the Death Eaters and then I took a short leave of absence. This is my first case since coming back."

"I was wondering why Ron has never mentioned you before," Ginny said as Aberforth sent two more glasses of whiskey sailing to the table with a Levitation charm to land in front of them. Ginny picked hers up and took a small sip.

"This is our first case together," Harry replied. "Your brother seems like a good man though."

"He is," Ginny agreed.

Harry nodded. "He's a good partner, as well. I envy his optimism."

"You aren't optimistic?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. "I just mean, he seems to be able to find the positive in most things."

"Like my vision of the lorry," Ginny stated.

"Your brother sees it as a positive thing, which it is," Harry said, trying not to offend her, Ginny was sure. "It's a definite start and more than we had before."

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you more to go on," Ginny expressed, feeling frustrated that there hadn't been more for her to see. And after what Harry had said of it only being circumstantial evidence, she couldn't help wondering if she had really been of much help, aside from confirming to Harry that she actually had the gift of second sight.

"No," Harry quickly said. "I'll be honest, the things you were telling us tonight... it was as if you had been present at the crime scene and already knew all the details about Daphne and what happened to her."

"So, you believe I have second sight," Ginny said, challenging him.

"I believe you have a gift, yes," Harry responded.

They sat in somewhat companionable silence for a moment, sipping at their ales. Aurora and Joseph departed, calling farewell to Ginny and Aberforth, and leaving them the only patrons left in the bar. Aberforth glanced over at Ginny and Harry before turning to wash up the glasses the Hogwarts professors had left behind at their table.

Finishing her drink, Ginny set it down on the table and looked over at Harry. He was a blank slate inside and out, and was currently staring absently at the half-empty goblet his hands were curled around. Since coming to her senses and putting the awful murder scene behind her, the enigma of Harry had come to the forefront of her thoughts again. He didn't like seers, but had respected Ron's opinion enough to take a chance on her. Her curiosity was definitely piqued and since she couldn't read Harry the normal way, at least for her, perhaps she should try a tried and true old fashioned way and glean some insight from examining his palms.

"Have you ever had your palms read, Harry?" Ginny asked, feeling emboldened after a couple of shots of Firewhisky followed by a goblet of ale, and reached for Harry's hands.

"Why are you asking?" Harry asked, looking up from his goblet with wary eyes.

"May I?" Ginny asked, and seeing his look, smiled. "Just for fun," she said lightly. She pulled his hands away from the goblet and held them palm up in her own. She blocked out the usual vision of his death before it could take root in her mind, and instead focused on examining the lines of his hands. She followed them with her eyes, and soon enough the despised images of Harry's death faded completely.

"You have air hands," she said, studying the alabaster skin of his rectangular palm, and his long, slender fingers.

"What's that mean?" Harry asked, and Ginny looked up, noting his strong, aquiline nose and his thick, black lashes casting long shadows over his cheeks as he looked down at his hands upon hers.

"It means you are curious, intellectual, and hold your feelings close," she said, slipping her left hand out from underneath his right to examine his left closer. "We'll start with your left hand. This is the hand that shows what you were born with."

Harry snorted. "I already had a seer tell me once what I was born with. I was marked."

Ginny could hear the bitterness in his voice and glanced up at him again. His square jaw was clenched and she could feel the tension and nervous energy radiating off him.

"I don't see that here," she said softly, tracing the lines on his hand. "Your fate line isn't deep until later in your life." She paused, and examined Harry's lifeline. His hand was warm in hers, he was alive as much as she was, despite what her vision kept telling her. His lifeline was broken in two places, while not unheard of, it was something she had yet to see in her years of study. After the second break it continued uninterrupted, where his fate line ran just as deep, running parallel to it.

"I think I'm fairly certain what my fate entails by now," Harry said acidly, attempting to withdraw his hand, but Ginny gripped it tighter.

"I'm not done," Ginny firmly said, looking up to meet his smouldering green eyes. She swallowed, his eyes were amazing. The photos that had been printed in the papers right after the end of the war didn't begin to do them justice. It was incredibly nerve-wracking to still not be able to sense anything from him. Usually, she could open her channels and be able to read anyone in her vicinity. Still holding his hand, she eased her mind slowly open, blocking out Aberforth's annoyance that they were the only ones left and preventing him from closing up shop early. Nothing. She couldn't even gain a sense of Harry's obvious bitterness or where it stemmed from.

"Why don't you like seers?" Ginny asked.

"Who says I don't?" Harry countered.

"I can tell," Ginny calmly replied, knowing from how he reacted earlier when she informed him that Ron had told her they didn't have any leads, he would not like the fact that Ron was sharing more of his secrets.

"Did you 'see' it?" Harry asked.

"Maybe." She definitely didn't want him to know that she couldn't read him aside from what his palms were telling her, and quite honestly, that was only the basics.

"I've had some bad experiences," he cagily said. "I think, for the most part, most seers are frauds."

"But you've decided I'm not a fraud," Ginny softly reminded him.

Harry gave her a surprised look. "I've never seen anything like what you did in the forest tonight. I don't think that is something you can fake, so no, I don't think you are a fraud. I think you are the real deal."

"Good," Ginny said.

Harry didn't look like he wanted to continue the conversation and Ginny reflected upon his hands again, examining his right hand in conjunction with his left.

"I've already told you your left hand shows us what you were born with," Ginny said instead. "Your right hand shows us what you have done with your potential."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm not sure I want to know if I am living up to my potential or not."

"Relax," Ginny soothed. "Just for fun, remember?"

"Right. Just for fun," Harry agreed, his hands twitching in hers and she had the distinct impression he wanted to run them through his already tousled hair.

"Let's look at your heart line," Ginny said, lightly tracing the line that ran from beneath his index finger past the edge of his palm, both good signs. Not that it mattered to her, Ginny mentally kicked herself, even if she decided she found his dishevelled look extremely attractive. Which was odd, since all the blokes she had fancied in the past had been well put-together.

Neville, for instance, had always been meticulous about his grooming and her boyfriend after him, Michael Corner had always dressed smart; his hair perfectly coiffed, his tie perfectly knotted, and his shirt, pants, and robes precisely pressed. She should have known from the beginning they would never work out. In hindsight, Michael reminded her quite a bit of her older brother, Percy, who had always been and still was uptight. She and Michael had not lasted long.

Then there had been Dean. He had been the perfect gentleman and hadn't even tried to hold her hand until their third date. He kissed her for the first time on the train back to Hogwarts after a summer of exchanging letters. The kiss was as warm and sincere as Dean and Ginny finally felt a tiny spark flare within her. She had been satisfied for a time, but Dean treated her as if she were made of glass, especially after she had a spell from a vision. At first she appreciated his attentions, but after a while they became cloying and the small spark that had briefly flamed between them died.

Ginny had given up on dating completely after that, contenting herself with the close friendships she had developed and focusing completely on honing her skill with Firenze.

So, here she was, reading the palm of an Auror who detested seers and with whom she had a working relationship, of sorts, she supposed. The gnawing, anxious feeling was back in the pit of her stomach and she recognized it for what it was - desire. Her cheeks flamed, and she was thankful for the dim light from the dingy lamp that hung on the wall by their table.

"So, what's the heart line tell you?" Harry was asking, and Ginny took the opportunity to bend her head lower over his palm, allowing her long, fiery braid to fall over her shoulder.

"Well," Ginny said, swallowing. "Yours is long and wavy which means two things." She paused, suddenly not liking what his hand was supposedly telling her. "A long line means you are content with your love life." She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard Harry emit a faint snort.

"What's the wavy part mean?" he pressed, and she could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head.

"It means you haven't had any serious relationships, but a lot of lovers," she finished, and Harry chuckled. She glanced up to see the corner of his mouth curled up in a half smile. It was the first time she had seen him smile all evening. "Is that funny?"

Harry shook his head. "That's what you see in my hands?"

"Yes," Ginny answered.

"What do you see in your head?" Harry asked, studying her carefully.

"What do you mean?" Ginny said, suddenly feeling like this entire scenario had been another test she had fallen into without realizing it.

"I mean," Harry began, "I have heard most of this before, but it doesn't tell me anything. So, I'll ask you again, what do you see in your head about me? You saw a lot tonight, and I am assuming that was only residual psychokinetic energy you were reading."

Ginny found herself caught in his burning green gaze, his eyes hard, yet pleading for her to tell him something no one else had been able to in the past.

"Your future is murky," she admitted. "I can't 'see' it or 'read' you at all. I'm sorry."

Harry was silent for a moment. "At least you are honest. All the others made up a bunch of lies or told me what they thought I wanted to hear."

"Is that why you don't like seers?" Ginny asked.

"It's part of the reason, but it's more complicated than that, and I'd rather not talk about it," Harry said candidly. He pulled a small pouch from his pocket and dumped a handful of galleons into his palm. Spreading them on the table, he stood abruptly. "This was 'fun'," he said, throwing her words back at her, "but I really should go. You did get something right, I do have a lot of lovers. It's my work, and right now Daphne needs her murderer found. Thanks for all your help tonight. I have a white lorry to track down."

For the second time that day, Ginny was caught unaware at how quickly he could shift gears, but rose to stand with him.

"Please, let me know if I can be of any further help on the case," she stated sincerely, to which he nodded.

"Well, thanks again." Harry said in a final farewell before departing. Ginny remained standing by the table, watching him disappear out the door. Faintly the sounds of the car door opening and closing and the engine turning over could be heard. Lights flared briefly through the front windows, rising up as the car lifted off the ground.

"All right, Ginevra," Aberforth barked, breaking into Ginny's stupor.

"Sorry," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Mind if I use the back entrance?"

"No," Aberforth said, walking towards the stairs that led to his personal chambers where a portrait of his departed sister hung. Ginny followed and returned the smile the young, blonde girl in the portrait gave her as she entered the room. It swung open silently and with Aberforth's help, Ginny hoisted herself up into the damp, dark passage.

"Harry's a nice bloke," Aberforth said gruffly. "Hopeless, but nice."

"What do you mean, he's hopeless?" Ginny asked, staring down at the old man from the passage.

"He doesn't see much sense in his life outside of his work," Aberforth replied.

"Not that I haven't already gathered that, how exactly do you know that?" Ginny asked.

"Me and Harry go way back," Aberforth stated. "Not many people realize that, but it's true. My brother, your former Headmaster, was his mentor. He tried to keep Harry a secret for as long as he possibly could. I always told him it was wrong to shelter the boy that way." Aberforth eyed her for a moment. "You keep doing what you're doing. You might crack him yet."

Ginny shook her head. "I doubt I'll have much opportunity to see him again."

"I don't know about that, Ginevra," Aberforth said, beginning to close the portrait after her. "I saw a light in young Harry's eyes tonight I haven't seen in a long time."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Arnel, Leif, and Mark for their dedicated beta work! You all are amazing! Thanks to my readers for following and leaving comments, I really appreciate them! Happy New Year!

**hghghghgh ghghghghg**

Ginny woke the following morning, groggy from a restless night of strange dreams that mainly consisted of walking hand-in-hand with Harry through a forest. White daisies and yellow and blue forget-me-nots had sprung up in their wake, covering the forest floor in a bed of wildflowers. At one point, he had turned to smile at her; not the half smile he had given her the previous night in the Hog's Head, but a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made the green shimmer brightly. Wordlessly, he had pulled her towards him, his head bowing, even as she tilted hers upwards to meet his. He kissed her softly, his arms wrapping around her waist. A fire had kindled within Ginny with that simple gesture and she had linked her arms around his neck, giving him all the encouragement he needed to deepen the kiss into a whirlwind of passion that had sent Ginny's senses reeling.

Lying in bed and feeling the warm light of the rising sun caressing her skin, Ginny ran her fingers lightly over her lips that still tingled, as if Harry actually had just kissed her. She had kissed three boys in her lifetime, and none of them had elicited the flames of passion she had felt in the dream. Her belly still roiled with anticipation and her chest ached with longing.

Daisies and forget-me-nots symbolized loyal and true love. Ginny scrunched up her nose in confusion, remembering how Harry's appearance and sarcastic comments had done little to make a good first impression upon her. While that impression had improved through the course of yesterday evening, she certainly hadn't gone to bed thinking romantic thoughts about the enigmatic Harry.

She sat up in bed, sitting crossed-legged beneath the covers, rolled her shoulders and straightened her back until she was in a relaxed, but perfectly aligned position. Resting her hands lightly on her knees, Ginny closed her eyes and began slowly breathing in through her nose and just as slowly blowing her breath softly out from her lips. She imagined her body was a balloon and pictured the cool air she breathed in to fill the entire space within her. After several minutes, Ginny felt a calmness wash over her signalling her readiness to enter her mind's eye and she focused on one objective for her meditation, to see her future.

Moving through the darkness of her mind, shadowy, grey images flickered before her. Tall, spindly objects grew around her, and gazing above her head, Ginny thought she could see the sun filtering through what she thought might be tree branches. Looking about her and past the trees, she saw only darkness beyond the trunks. Reaching a hand out, she touched the rough bark of a trunk nearest to her. It scratched against her skin, and she ran her fingers over it as she passed by. Mist swirled around her ankles and the dry scrubby ground crunched beneath her bare feet as she moved forward. A faint light appeared before her, beckoning her onward.

Hope filling her heart, Ginny quickened her pace, hurrying towards its brightness. As she drew closer, faint laughter filled her ears, but it was muffled and she was uncertain where it was coming from. The light grew brighter and pushing the last few low hanging branches out of her path, Ginny stepped into a seemingly empty clearing until she saw two ghostly images hovering in the middle. Others hovered on the other side of the clearing, and slowly turning around, Ginny realized she and the two images were surrounded by other indistinct shadows. She looked up at the sky and screamed in anger.

_I want to see MY future, not this senseless death of a boy I didn't even know! _

Growling in frustration, she opened her eyes, effectively disintegrating the vision before it could coalesce once again into a sequence of events she had seen thousands of times. She could envision unfortunate Daphne Greengrass being murdered and feel the killer's hands around her neck, but she couldn't see hers or Harry's future.

Remembering the whole reason she had even met Harry yesterday, Ginny's anger immediately abated and reminded her of the more pressing issue of finding a murderer before he decided to kill again.

She wondered why the killer had chosen Daphne. There was a plethora of reasons why from the fact that she was a former Slytherin who had caused other students grief, she had fought on the dark side, or simply because she was beautiful and perhaps had shunned the killer at some point in her life. It could be all three of those things, or maybe none. Unfortunately, Ginny had not been able to gain a clear sense of the killer's motives, as Daphne's fear had been too prevalent, effectively masking other emotions.

Mulling the details of the case, along with her confusing feelings for Harry over, Ginny quickly dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast. Arriving in the Great Hall through the side door that led from the teacher's lounge to the head table, Ginny moved down the aisle behind the table, greeting her fellow instructors before slipping into her seat next to Neville.

He was perusing the sports section of the _Daily Prophet_ and sipping a cup of steaming green tea, but looked up when Ginny settled next to him.

"You were still gone when I left to go home yesterday," Neville commented. "Did Ron let you help?"

"Yes," Ginny sighed, rubbing her eyes, "The victim was Daphne Greengrass, Neville."

"You saw her?" Neville asked, astonished. "She was awful and a Slytherin, but she never did anything worse than any of the others who managed to avoid trial. I wonder why someone would want to kill her in cold blood."

"I don't know, and unfortunately, I wasn't able to see the killer as well as I had hoped. I wasn't able to give them much except that the killer used a white lorry."

"Well, that's an odd bit of evidence, I'd say," Neville said. "Are they certain he's a wizard? Maybe it is just a random Muggle killing. It seems murders like Daphne's occur much more frequently in their world than ours."

Ginny nodded. "True, but I saw him use magic, and very effectively. He's a wizard with Muggle ties. At least, that's what Ron and his partner think. Speaking of which," Ginny paused. She wanted very much to talk with Neville about the strange visions she had been having of Harry, but she wasn't certain what her best friend would think.

Neville already knew that when Ginny had been a little girl she had had a crush on the mythical hero that had been Harry Potter. Since no one had known where he was or if he even really existed, there had been many fantastical tales woven about him. So, like many girls, Ginny had fantasized about Harry, like a knight in shining armour or a prince, who would rescue the damsel in distress.

Of course, by the time she began attending Hogwarts, she had outgrown such childish fantasies. However, the dream last night seemed like one of her daydreams from so long ago, dusted off and refurbished to meet her more mature expectations, and perhaps that was all it was.

"Speaking of which," she repeated, deciding it would best to clue Neville in, "you'll never guess who Ron's new partner is."

"Harry Potter," Neville answered, smiling broadly over at the gobsmacked expression Ginny couldn't help covered her face. "Finally, I knew something before you. It's a miracle."

"How'd you know?" Ginny asked, feeling put out.

"I saw Ron a couple of nights ago at the Leaky," Neville answered. "He came in, complaining about his new partner being a workaholic and expecting Ron to stay as late as he planned to. I had planned on telling you, but then you had the vision about the murder and it slipped my mind. I'm surprised you didn't see it though, Ginny. Especially since you mentioned seeing Ron looking over the case."

"That's just the thing, Neville," Ginny said, lowering her voice so only he would hear her and none of the other professors still seated at the head table, "I can't read Harry at all."

"Not at all?" Neville asked, his brow furrowing.

"No," Ginny said. "I've never encountered anything like it, well, except with myself. It's the same thing, I can't read him or see his future, or anything."

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, but remember when I told you about the very first vision I ever had?" Ginny asked, waiting for Neville to confirm that he did before continuing. "Well, after meeting Harry I realized he's the boy. I saw him die, at the hands of the Dark Lord, I think."

Neville stared at her, clearly perplexed. "But, he faced the Dark Lord years ago and he's still alive, Ginny."

"I know," Ginny said. "I don't understand it. When Ron introduced us yesterday and I shook Harry's hand, I saw it again, clearer than ever before, but that is all I ever see when I touch him."

"Maybe you were wrong," Neville offered.

"Maybe, but why would I still see it, as if it really did happen?" Ginny asked. "I saw it as clear as I witnessed the murder scene last night, Neville. I know it happened. As much as I hate saying this, I have never been wrong before."

"Sounds like you are simply going to have to ask him, then," Neville replied, and Ginny scowled at him.

"How do you suggest I do that?" she asked. "I can't just go up to him and ask if the Dark Lord killed him!"

"Not so bluntly, no," Neville said. "But maybe you could work it into conversation."

"I don't know if I will even see him again, Neville," Ginny said, trying very hard to ignore the baffling pang in her chest. "I don't normally make it a habit to aid Auror investigations, you know."

"What made you decide to this time?" Neville asked.

"I had the vision of Daphne's murder and something compelled me to help them."

"What?" Neville pressed. "You've had visions before. Aside from informing the participating parties, you've never wanted to be personally involved before, Ginny."

Ginny was beginning to wonder if some unseen hand was indeed guiding her. After Fred, she had never attempted to become involved in any way except from giving the information she had received. It was too painful to watch her visions come to fruition, but she felt like she couldn't stop herself this time.

"This isn't about trying to change the future," Ginny explained. "Ron told me they didn't have any evidence, and I was at least able to provide them with something to go on."

Neville nodded. "As long as you know what you are doing."

"I do," Ginny said with conviction. "I think this will be good for me. There was a reason I was given this gift. Not that I have been squandering it here teaching Divination, because I love working with the students, but I could and should be doing more. If I can help Ron and Harry catch this killer, then I should."

Ginny helped herself to some toast and marmalade and a glass of pumpkin juice, and had just taken a bite when Neville asked:

"So, what's Harry Potter like?"

"Quiet, reserved," Ginny answered around the bite of toast, quickly chewing and swallowing the rest before continuing. "He doesn't strike me as being very social. Ron had to practically twist his arm before he agreed to have a drink with us at the Hog's Head."

"You had a drink with Harry Potter last night?" Neville asked, clearly shocked.

"Yes, why do you act so surprised?" Ginny didn't find it strange in the slightest that she had shared a drink with her brother and his partner.

"He's never set foot in the Leaky," Neville responded, "and Hannah says she heard a rumour that he doesn't drink."

"Well, clearly that rumour is false," Ginny said, thinking of the two shots they had had, although she couldn't remember if Harry had drunk his second one or not. "He drinks, just not a lot, I think. I have to tell you, it's very strange for me not to be able to receive any kind of insight into a person."

"Welcome to the world of the average witch or wizard," Neville teased.

"I know. I even resorted to reading his palms to try to get him to open up to me a bit," Ginny admitted.

Neville raised an eyebrow at this remark. "You flirted with Harry Potter?"

"No!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Sounds like flirting to me," Neville retorted, picking up his tea cup to take a sip, only to have most of the tea slosh over his robes when Ginny punched him on the shoulder.

"I was not," Ginny hissed, thinking back on yesterday evening and her conversation with Harry as she held his hand and traced the lines on his palms. Her cheeks coloured with the realization that it did indeed look like flirting upon her reflection. She flicked her eyes over to Neville who was rubbing his shoulder, but smirking at her.

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny groaned. "I was, wasn't I?"

Neville shrugged. "I wasn't there, but, yeah, it sounds that way. So what did you learn from reading the infamous Harry Potter's palms? I hear he's fairly misanthropic."

"He certainly was close-lipped yesterday," Ginny said. "I think I wound up telling him more about myself than I found out about him. He certainly wasn't too happy about me reading his palms, especially after I admitted to him that I couldn't read him. He said he had yet to meet a seer who could, but at least I was the first to admit to it."

"Sounds like he's been visiting a lot of seers," Neville mused. "The papers have always alluded that he's mental."

"He's definitely not mental," Ginny said defensively. "He just seemed… depressed." Ginny recalled the faint air of desperation that Harry had exhibited when she had admitted she couldn't read him. "And why do you have to be mental to visit a seer?" Ginny asked, glaring over at her best friend. "Just remember, you asked for my advice about Hannah."

"And you wouldn't give me any," Neville retorted, even as he smiled affectionately over at Ginny. "And you were right, it was much better not knowing ahead of time and taking a chance. That's why I think it might be a good thing you can't read Harry. It already sounds like this conundrum has piqued your interest and curiosity."

"It has at that," Ginny agreed. "I hope I'll see him again. I have to admit, it was nice spending time with someone and not having to block out all the white noise."

"Think that's why you fancy him?" Neville asked, studying her.

Neville effectively managed to dodge the next punch Ginny aimed towards him. "I never said I fancied him! When I met him yesterday it looked like he'd slept in his uniform and just rolled out of bed."

"Maybe he had," Neville joked. "Mental, remember? I heard he has a house-elf that has to remind him when to eat."

"You're having me on," Ginny responded, looking over at him. "Where do you get all your information from anyway?"

"My wife, where else?" Neville asked, as if the answer should be obvious. "She's a barkeeper, remember? People talk, as do gossiping goblins, eavesdropping elves, prattling pygmies…"

"You are no help," Ginny griped and glanced at her watch, "Don't you have a morning class to prepare for?"

Neville pulled out his own pocket watch and grimaced. "Thanks for reminding me! I have to put away all my prized plants before my first year Slytherins and Ravenclaws show up."

"Good luck," Ginny said as he rose.

"You too, Ginny," Neville said, stooping to peck her on the cheek. "And between you and me, Harry really would be daft not to fancy you back."

He hurried off before she could attempt to hit him for the third time, and she quickly pulled her hand back to her side, but not before she received a reprimanding look from the Headmistress.

"Professor Weasley," Headmistress McGonagall called, "Do try to remember that you are no longer a student here, but an instructor and comport yourself as such."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

The following day, Ginny was taking a stroll over the grounds after her last class, ambling aimlessly. Neville's comments that she had flirted with Harry and that she must fancy him had left her analysing nearly everything that had occurred since meeting him. Her thoughts had been scattered over the past twenty-four hours, fluctuating between trying to find more information in the vague images she had picked up at the abduction and crime scenes and thinking of the few moments in the Hog's Head she had spent talking to Harry.

Reviewing Daphne's brutal murder had done nothing but bring on another migraine and Ginny had quickly given up, knowing she was not going to find anything else to bring to Ron and Harry. Thinking of Harry, had become a much more pleasant past-time, even though going over what she had seen in his palm didn't make things any clearer where he was concerned, either. At least remembering their conversation didn't give her a headache, and sometimes when she closed her eyes she could feel the weight and warmth of his hand in hers. During her daily meditation she would focus on the phantom feeling of his hand and hope it would lead to unlocking more insight into him, but all it ever brought was the scene of his violent end. She couldn't bring herself to examine it as she had Daphne's, because Ginny was afraid of what she might find.

She was actually debating whether or not she should simply pay him a visit at the Auror office to inquire how the case was fairing, when surprisingly, she saw Harry's messy black hair and lean figure stepping out of Hagrid's hut. Ginny froze in her tracks, bemused as to why he was visiting Hagrid.

All of her years at Hogwarts, she had never seen Harry Potter anywhere near the vicinity of the school and Hagrid had certainly never mentioned knowing him. As Aberforth had said the other evening, Harry had been Professor Dumbledore's best kept secret until the very end.

Harry began walking down the path from Hagrid's hut that would lead him to the school gates, and Ginny felt the pangs of disappointment that he hadn't come to the school to see her. She thought, since he was at the school, he would at least have taken the opportunity to inform her how the investigation was going, and she was understandably annoyed at his apparent thoughtlessness.

She continued watching his retreating back, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, hesitating a moment before turning around. As she was standing at the top of the hill above him, Harry instantly spied her and paused, looking uncertainly in her direction. Ginny realized she was scowling in a very unattractive way towards him and attempted to cover the look by shielding her eyes, as if she was trying to make out who he was.

After a moment's indecision, Harry headed towards her, his long legs carrying him to stand before her in just a few strides. Despite his still unruly hair, it looked as if he had made a concerted effort to make himself a bit more presentable than the last time she had seen him. His navy robes were relatively wrinkle-free, his shirt tails were tucked in and his tie, while still loosened, was knotted in a neat Windsor knot. He was still wearing the scuffed trainers, but overall he appeared much more professional.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted as he came to a stop.

"Hello, Ginny," he replied, "Sun in your eyes?" He observed her slyly, squinting slightly against the sun that was indeed at her back and Ginny silently groaned, realizing he had effectively deduced her ruse. "You didn't look too happy to see me," he continued.

"I was surprised to see you here, is all," Ginny honestly replied. "And if you must know, I was a bit put out that you hadn't stopped by to let me know how the case was fairing."

"I assumed Ron would have kept you informed." Harry churlishly said, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets

"I suppose he's been too busy tracking down white lorries," Ginny remarked.

"We've done as much as we can," Harry offered by way of explanation. "I have a contact in the Muggle police looking into white lorries for me on their end. So far, we haven't come up with much."

"I imagine your contact in the Muggle office must find the work tedious then."

To Ginny's surprise Harry's lips quirked into a half-smile. "It's all right. It's my cousin, and he owes me more than one favour. Besides, better Dudley than Ron. Especially after the earful I received yesterday from Ron when he was late meeting Hermione and her parents. Speaking of, have you fully recovered from the other night?"

"Yes, thank you for asking," Ginny answered.

Harry shuffled his feet beneath him, absently looking past her shoulder at the castle behind them. "Were you headed somewhere in particular when you saw me?" he asked

"I was planning on taking a walk over the grounds. Would you like to come with me?" Ginny asked, realizing this may be the perfect opportunity to ask him about his past.

Harry hesitated, and Ginny wondered if she had been too presumptuous, but he finally gave her another half smile and nodded. "Sure."

She stepped past him and began walking, Harry falling into step next to her and silently observing their surroundings. Something told her he was more familiar with Hogwarts than he was letting on, but he seemed content to follow her lead. She veered off the path and headed down the grassy slope towards the lake.

"I couldn't help noticing you were visiting Hagrid," Ginny mentioned. "Have you been here before?"

"Only a few times, and usually during the holidays when there weren't any students present," Harry answered, with some amount of melancholy tinging his words. "Hagrid is an old friend."

"He's a good man," Ginny remarked, "with a gentle soul."

"A gentle giant," Harry chuckled, "with an affinity for dangerous animals."

"Oh, you've experienced those, too?" Ginny asked. "I took his Care of Magical Creatures class through N.E.W.T.s. I must be a glutton for punishment. I can't tell you the number of times I went to see Madam Pomfrey because of burnt hands and singed eyebrows."

"He does seem to favour the fire breathing monsters, doesn't he?" Harry asked. "He brought a baby Chimera over for Christmas one year. I think he thought I'd like to see one, which I did, until it burned the drapes as well as the Christmas tree in the sitting room. My godfather was none too pleased."

"I bet," Ginny commented.

Harry nodded, but said nothing more on the subject, his eyes suddenly guarded.

"Your robes look more like what I had in mind when we met the other day," he casually observed, effectively changing the subject. Ginny smoothed the flowing light cream wool robes with the red piping she was wearing. She glanced over at him and saw the half smile again.

"And you, Harry," she said, playing along. "You look like a proper Auror, with the exception of your trainers. Head Auror Robards doesn't take issue with those?"

"They're comfortable," he off-handily commented, not answering her question, which led Ginny to deduce that Robards probably did have a problem with Harry's choice of footwear.

They reached the lake and stood side-by-side watching the small waves slide over the rocks and stones on the shore. The mountains on the other side were shrouded in a grey mist and it was definitely cooler by the water than further up the hill by the castle. Ginny crossed her arms in front of her, rubbing her arms with her hands. Harry's wand appeared in his hand and with a small flick a Warming Charm settled around them. Ginny smiled gratefully over at him, somewhat surprised by the thoughtfulness of the action.

"Did you cast the shield the other night?" she asked, referring to the shield that had kept the rain off her when she had fainted after the vision.

"Yes," he answered simply and looked over at her with curious green eyes. "How long have you had your gift?"

"I was born with it, I suppose," Ginny replied, tearing her eyes away from the intensity of his gaze to stare out over the lake. "I could always sense other people's emotions, but I didn't start having visions until I was thirteen."

"Are your visions always about death?" Harry asked.

"Not always," Ginny said. "I can see any life-changing moments if I try hard enough. I saw my best friend, Neville marrying his sweetheart, but that's only because he asked me if I saw a future for the two of them. Not that I told him what the vision entailed, but only that I thought she was worth pursuing."

"How does it work?" Harry asked. "Can you see anyone's future and past or is it random?"

"Most of the time visions will come to me unbidden, like with Daphne," Ginny explained, "but I certainly don't go around trying to read everyone I encounter on a whim. That would be exhausting. I spent many years studying so I could shut visions and emotions from people I encountered out, because it was becoming difficult for me to function normally."

"That must have been tough," Harry commented.

"It was, but fortunately, I had three older brothers who understood what I was going through and they looked out for me when other students made fun of me," Ginny said, wincing at the memories of being teased incessantly for fainting in the Great Hall or having visions that caused her to look as if she was having some sort of seizure. If it hadn't been for Fred, George, and Ron, she doubted she would have survived the ridicule.

"Once they realized you had a gift, did other students ask you to tell them their future?" Harry asked.

"They did," Ginny confessed, "but since I was just learning to hone my craft, I wasn't very effective. Not to mention that Professor Dumbledore and my mentor, Firenze, told me I shouldn't tell specific futures because it was dangerous to try to change things that were destined to happen.

"Not that I didn't try in some instances, like when I foresaw death. I did try."

She paused and stared out over the water. Harry's had been the first, but not the only death she had seen. Even before Fred's she had seen the death of another Hogwarts student, the Triwizard champion, Cedric Diggory.

"In my third year, not long after my gift fully manifested itself, I envisioned the death of a seventh year student. In my vision, he and his girlfriend had a row and she ran off into the Forbidden Forest. He chased after her, and found her lost, deep in the woods. As they were making their way back, they were set upon by gigantic Acromantulas, and the boy stayed behind to fight them off to give his girlfriend a chance to escape. He was never seen from again.

"I warned him of what I had seen, and he wisely heeded my words, informing his girlfriend of my vision and asking her not to run away into the forest. Fortunately, she listened to him."

"So he survived?" Harry asked.

Ginny sighed. "I wish. After leaving Hogwarts and visiting Romania with his parents, he contracted a fatal strain of Dragon Pox and died anyway."

"Wait a minute," Harry said, "Are you referring to the Cedric Diggory, the Triwizard champion?"

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "I suppose you read about it in the _Prophet_?"

Harry nodded absent-mindedly and Ginny continued. "His girlfriend blamed me for a long time, asking me why I hadn't seen his death regardless. I didn't have an answer for her, and that was when I began to realize that foreseeing the future may not be so much a gift, but a curse."

"You can't change it?" Harry asked. "Not even when you warn the person?"

"No," Ginny answered, her throat constricting, thinking of the numerous different deaths she had foreseen for Fred. "I didn't know for certain until I saw my brother, Fred's death."

"Ron has mentioned him," Harry said. "He died during the war, didn't he?"

Ginny nodded. "When I had my first vision of his death, I begged him not to fight, and he agreed. But then I saw him die another way; a senseless death. No matter what I did to stop it, I kept seeing him die one way or the other."

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Harry said sympathetically. "That must have been difficult."

"It was excruciating," Ginny admitted. "Finally, I had to accept that he was going to die. I suppose in some ways it was better. Fred was able to tie up loose ends and make sure his twin, George, and all of us were going to be all right. In the end he was at peace and he died a hero instead of senselessly."

"I think it's easier for the person that dies than the ones they leave behind," Harry commented. "They're moving on to a better place, leaving the rest of us behind to struggle along as best we can."

"That's a pessimistic attitude," Ginny criticized.

Harry shrugged. "It's the truth."

"It was a struggle at first, yes," Ginny said. "But my family persevered, and while I still miss Fred immensely, I can remember him and talk about him without breaking down. For a while, none of us could."

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, and he looked contritely over at her. "I told you I didn't have a very optimistic outlook on things. It's good that you do."

"There's a reason for everything, Harry," Ginny observed. "Even of it's hard to always see what that may be."

"I suppose," he said, turning from the lake to walk along the shore towards the Forbidden Forest, and Ginny followed him. With the sun reflecting off the green of the trees, it didn't look quite so forbidding at the moment. She didn't tell Harry that she had seen his death, and she still couldn't understand how he was standing before her, very much alive and well, or the reason for its recurrence in her dreams. It had been several years since the end of the war, and for all intents and purposes, Harry should have been visited by death again by now. She tried to read him as he walked beside her, but he was still a blank slate; she saw and felt nothing, not even the consternation he was feeling so evident on his face, as he mulled over everything she had just revealed. She should have felt that and more. While disconcerting, it was also refreshing. For once in her life, she didn't have to struggle to close off her extra sensory perception.

"So, you foresaw Daphne's death after the fact," Harry finally said, as they walked up the hill that would take them behind Hagrid's hut and along the perimeter of the forest.

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "I can see past events as well. Those almost always come in the form of a dream. Very rarely do I have a vision that hits me unaware while I am in the middle of something else. I can usually tell if something is weighing upon me and I have time to find a space to meditate and allow the images to flow through me. Firenze was a very good instructor."

"Is anyone ever around to record your visions?" Harry asked.

"I don't need them to be," Ginny answered. "I can always remember them. Why do you ask?"

"I knew a supposed seer once, who wasn't very good," Harry replied. "She had maybe two visions her entire life and both times she never remembered them and they were always spoken in riddle."

Ginny grimaced. "She was simply a conduit. I suppose I am, too, but the difference is that I can control what I see and say."

"I gathered that the other night," Harry said. "At least you gave us specific details and not a load of mumbo-jumbo that could be interpreted a million different ways, but why bother helping us with your visions? We'll catch the killer eventually. If people are meant to die, as you say, then that applies to his intended victims, as well."

Ginny looked over at him, shocked by the coldness of his statement. "Maybe those women were meant to die, but would you have them die in such a violent manner? Raped and stabbed to death while they begged for mercy and their lives?"

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, back-pedalling when he realized what he had said and how it had sounded to her ears. "That's not what I meant. I meant, why put yourself through the torture of getting into his head; seeing what he sees? I can catch him without you having to open yourself up to his sadistic mind."

"I can help you catch him quicker," Ginny declared. "It's worth the pain of a little headache."

"A little headache?" Harry asked incredulously. "You fainted at the last crime scene!"

"I can handle it, Harry," Ginny reassured him, surprised by his apparent concern for her well-being. "I've been doing this for years. Do you have people asking you if you can do your job?"

"All the time," Harry replied, "but I've been doing it for years, too."

Ginny glanced over at him and saw the half smile again. The sun was setting behind the Forbidden Forest, casting long shadows around them, and coming to a stop, Ginny turned her back on the forest to gaze up at the castle windows, now ablaze with light. It was beautiful and she recalled Harry's melancholy when she had asked him if he had ever been there before. She couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if Harry had attended Hogwarts as he should have. Maybe nothing would have changed or perhaps everything.

"Why didn't you attend Hogwarts, Harry?" she asked, turning to look at him. "You would have been in Ron's year, I imagine."

Harry turned to gaze at the castle as well. His eyes roved over the tall turrets and the peaked rooftops. He looked over at Hagrid's hut, where the large man could be seen sitting on the uneven steps leading to his back door, mending a large net. He had built a small bonfire in his garden and it blazed brightly, sending smoke drifting up towards the sky. Spotting Ginny and Harry looking his way, he waved jovially before returning to his work.

"I was supposed to. Hagrid came and collected me," Harry quietly answered, nodding towards the groundskeeper. "We had gone shopping at Diagon Alley, collected everything I would need. Hagrid even bought me an owl." The corner of his mouth lifted at what must be a fond memory. "She was a beautiful snowy white and I named her Hedwig."

"What happened?" Ginny asked, surprised to hear that he had indeed been slated to attend Hogwarts. She had assumed Dumbledore had always planned on keeping Harry hidden away from the Wizarding world.

"Hagrid took me to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron," Harry said. "There were a lot of witches and wizards there, and they were all really excited to meet me."

"I imagine so," Ginny remarked.

"One in particular, Professor Quirrell had been very interested," Harry continued. "Until I met Hagrid I didn't know anything about the Wizarding world or that I was famous. I didn't know yet that I needed to be careful. He asked me where I had been, and I told him about Dudley, and my aunt and uncle."

"You lived with Muggles?" Ginny queried.

Harry nodded. "My mum's sister. She hated me."

"But you were her sister's son!" Ginny objected and Harry snorted.

"She hated my mum, as well," he replied. "When I came home with a trunk full of magic books, robes, and a wand, my uncle nearly exploded. He locked it all up in a cupboard."

"Did your aunt and uncle keep you from attending?" Ginny asked, although she didn't see how that would have been possible, seeing as they were Muggles. If they had tried to prevent Harry from going to Hogwarts, surely Professor Dumbledore would have dispatched Hagrid to collect him again.

"No," Harry said. "Professor Dumbledore made that decision after Professor Quirrell kidnapped me and my relatives."

"Why did Professor Quirrell kidnap you?" Ginny asked.

"He was possessed by Voldemort," Harry answered matter-of-factly and then smiled the half smile again. "He blubbered 'Voldemort made me do it' every time he tortured me."

"That's not funny, Harry," Ginny said, shuddering at the thought of an eleven-year-old boy being tortured by a full-grown wizard.

"Who's laughing?" Harry harshly said. "He killed my aunt and uncle before my eyes trying to get me to talk. Not that I cared much for them, but still, like you said earlier, they didn't deserve to die like that."

"What did he want you to tell him?" Ginny asked.

"How I had defeated Voldemort the first time," Harry said bitterly. "How the hell should I have known then how I did it? I was only a baby at the time, and only eleven when the bloody monster decided to try again. Good thing I managed to kill Quirrell somehow, or I'd probably not be standing here having this chat with you now."

Startled by this confession, Ginny looked over at him to see the same stunned expression in his eyes. "Harry," she said. "That's horrible. I had no idea. I am so sorry."

"I don't... I don't know why I just told you that," he dully muttered. "I've never told anyone about killing Quirrell. I hadn't planned on sharing that with anyone... ever."

"It's all right," Ginny assured him, but Harry would not be appeased.

"How'd you get me to confess?" he angrily asked, overcoming his momentary shock to glare at her with accusing eyes.

"I didn't," Ginny exclaimed. "That's not how my gift works. I can't make people tell me things, I can only see them."

"I have to go," he said, backing away.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, stepping towards him, "I swear, I didn't do anything. Please, don't go," but he was already moving quickly away from her, and Ginny stood helplessly rooted to the spot as he hurried back down the path that led to the gates. He disappeared over the hill, and sighing, Ginny began to resume her trek back to the castle.

She feared she and Harry would never be able to come to terms with her gift. It seemed to offend him in ways she couldn't understand and had no control over. After revealing how intimately she could see into other people's lives, she supposed she could understand why he may assume she had somehow subliminally coerced him into revealing what was obviously a painful secret. She did not have a clear explanation as to why he had opened up to her, but a small part of her couldn't help thinking, that despite what he said or how he acted, he was comfortable with her on a level perhaps he was unaware of.

"Hello there, Ginny," Hagrid's voice called to her as she passed his hut.

Stopping, Ginny looked over towards the groundskeeper, who, while smiling in greeting at her, had a worried look in his eyes. Hagrid knew Harry quite well, Ginny surmised and his concern for the troubled man was evident to her visually and clairvoyantly.

"Hello, Hagrid," Ginny replied, heading towards him instead of the castle.

"Would ya like a spot of tea?" he asked, indicating the large kettle hanging from a hook over the fire.

"No, thank you," Ginny said, settling on a log opposite Hagrid and holding her hands out to warm by the flames licking the underside of the kettle.

Hagrid nodded, poking at the logs with a long stick and causing them to flare higher before leaning back on the steps. "Been talkin' to Harry, I see. He told me ya were helpin' him and Ron with a case."

"Yes," Ginny nodded, still bemused by Harry's confession and his resulting unease.

"Everythin' all right?" Hagrid asked in concern.

"I'm not sure," Ginny admitted. "I suppose you saw him run off."

"Yeah," Hagrid said. "He does that, when things get too uncomfortable. Defense mechanism, I think. Ya get too close?"

"He told me about Quirrell," Ginny said, studying Hagrid. She was not disappointed when his bushy eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Did he?" Hagrid asked. "What did he tell ya?"

"That Quirrell kidnapped him and killed his aunt and uncle," Ginny said.

"That he did," Hagrid confirmed. "It was awful and Professor Dumbledore was beside himself with worry. He thought Harry would be safe at his aunt and uncle's house, and he should have been. But they were an awful sort of Muggle."

"Harry alluded to that fact," Ginny said, remembering the little bit Harry had told her about his aunt and uncle.

"They didn't like that he was a wizard," Hagrid continued, "And when Harry returned from Diagon Alley they punished him. Sent him out of the house everyday ta fend for himself."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"His cousin, Dudley had a little gang back then and they bullied Harry," Hagrid said, his disdain for Harry's relatives clear from his tone of voice. "Harry's aunt and uncle locked him out of the house from sun-up to sun-down every day after he found out he was wizard. I think they were scared of him. So, ta avoid Dudley's gang, Harry took ta staying in a park. That's where Quirrell found him."

"Harry told me he killed Quirrell," Ginny stated. "Is that true?"

Hagrid sighed and stared into the flames. "He didn't do it intentionally! He was just a boy, and he didn't know."

"It's all right, Hagrid," Ginny assured the half-giant whose eyes had become watery with the memory. A gentle giant, Harry had called him, and he was right.

"Harry didn't kill Quirrell," Hagrid said, sniffing, "It was his mum, but no matter what Professor Dumbledore told him, Harry always felt guilty about it. Still does. Guilty about killin' a man that had tried ta kill him and nearly succeeded!"

"What happened?" Ginny asked, confused as to how Harry's long dead mother could have killed Quirrell.

"Harry's mum gave him a very special and strong protection when she died tryin' ta save him," Hagrid explained. "It's why Voldemort couldn't kill him the first time. When Quirrell tried ta kill him, Harry grabbed him and burned him."

"How?" Ginny asked.

"Since Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, he couldn't stand ta be touched by Harry," Hagrid explained. "He burned alive, I think. It traumatized Harry."

"How did you find him?" Ginny asked.

"Hedwig," Hagrid said proudly, "After Quirrell took Harry's aunt, uncle, and cousin, she broke out of her cage and tracked Professor Dumbledore down. He was a bright wizard, you know. He figured out where Quirrell was and we rescued them."

He stopped short of telling Ginny what they had found, but he didn't have to, since she could see it plain in his mind. Quirrell was gone, and Harry was lying in a pile of ash, the scar on his forehead a vivid red and seeping blood, and his own hands and arms oozing and blackened with third degree burns. A portly, blond boy who must have been Dudley was sitting in the corner of the room rocking back and forth.

"With Harry's aunt and uncle dead, he wasn't protected anymore," Hagrid explained. "Professor Dumbledore didn't have any choice, he had ta hide Harry. He knew Voldemort would try again, and next time he might succeed if Harry wasn't prepared ta face him."

Hagrid looked over at her. "Harry's never confessed ta anyone about what happened with Quirrell. He told me ya can't read him. Is that true, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded. "He accused me of making him reveal his secret." She looked over at Hagrid. "Why doesn't he like seers, Hagrid?"

"He thinks a seer cursed him before he was born," Hagrid said, "and that's all I'm goin' ta tell ya. It's up ta Harry to tell ya why he thinks that. I've said more than I should have as it is."

They fell into silence, Ginny's head swimming with everything Harry and Hagrid had revealed. It explained how Harry had survived when he had been younger, but what she had learned still didn't clarify why Harry was alive today. She could only hope she would have another opportunity to get to know him better and he wouldn't run off again at the first instance of opening up to her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's notes: **Thanks to my betas, Arnel, seekers_destiny, and Brennus for all their hard work. I hope you all will enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Arriving for her seventh year class the next morning, Ginny sat at her desk and began her normal morning routine of brewing tea, even though she felt anything but normal. She hadn't been able to stop thinking of Harry's half confession that Hagrid had expounded upon and what it meant. She longed to visit Firenze and ask for his opinion, but he was currently deep in the Forbidden Forest preparing for the Autumnal Equinox. He would be nearly impossible to find and if she managed it, he would no doubt be immersed in meditation preparing for the rituals his clan performed yearly.

She was on her own with this one. She had gone to the library to research any articles there may be on Harry, but she soon found most of them to be nothing but speculation. Harry hadn't emerged to the Wizarding world until the defeat of Voldemort, and had not spoken to a single journalist. Soon after he had left, as he had told her, and hunted down the remaining staunch Death Eaters who had run away to hide and perhaps cause mayhem wherever they alighted. Those articles usually were nothing more than two or three lines of how Harry and his team had apprehended another war criminal and sent them to Azkaban.

She'd left the library soon after arriving, with no more knowledge of who Harry really was than when she entered. Just from the two encounters she had had with him, she wanted to understand the broken and damaged man she suspected he was and not the made-up stories a clueless reporter printed.

Turning towards the grate, Ginny conjured a warm fire and filled the kettle with water before taking out her tea tin and jade green tea pot and cup. Setting them all on a wooden tray that sat in the middle of her desk, Ginny then rose to rearrange her classroom.

Moving to the front of her desk, she waved her wand and sent most of the tables and chairs sailing to rest against the walls of the room, revealing a thick, circular blue rug. Flicking her wand towards a far corner, large feather pillows soared to land in a tight circle in the middle of the rug.

Ginny moved away from the desk, and stepped over the pillows until she stood in the very centre of the rug. Looking upwards she gazed at the ceiling painted with a large circle the exact diameter and circumference of the rug beneath it. A smaller circle was drawn in its middle, matching the pillows Ginny had just placed upon the rug. Both circles were divided into twelve sections with all the points of the lines meeting in the very middle of the inner circle. The outer sections contained the twelve astrological symbols for the sun, moon, eight planets, and the two dwarf planets. The inner sections contained the signs of the zodiac.

Reaching within her robes, Ginny pulled out a pale yellow scrying crystal the size of a large chestnut that hung on a leather lanyard she wore around her neck. It was perfectly round and polished smooth, and she often held it in her hand and rubbed it against her palm like a worry stone. Allowing it to dangle from her right hand on the leather strap, she held it over the palm of her left hand. It swayed back and forth above her palm in no particular pattern, before beginning to swirl in a large circle. When the conditions were right, a scrying crystal could be used to find a person if one knew enough about them, like their name and astrological sign.

Moving around the perimeter of the inner circle, Ginny positioned herself beneath the astrological sign of the lion, which was her astrological sign, and she had learned from her brief research was Harry's, as well. Breathing in deeply, Ginny focused her energy into the small crystal ball still moving in a lazy circle above her hand. She couldn't see Harry's past or future, but perhaps she could view his present.

"Show me Harry," she whispered, and continued taking slow breaths in and out for several more seconds before opening her eyes to gaze at the crystal.

It glowed brightly and had come to rest, hovering in the middle of her palm. Cradling the crystal in her left hand, Ginny lifted it up to peer within. A portly figure with a balding pate she immediately recognized as Head Auror Robards from seeing his picture numerous times in the papers was leaning across his desk reprimanding two of his junior Aurors. His mouth moved rapidly as he silently fired off a tirade towards the two men. Ron sat at attention in his chair, staring straight past Robards' left shoulder at the wall behind him while Harry slumped disrespectfully in his chair and sullenly glared at his superior officer's splotchy red face. While Ginny could not hear what they were saying, she was certain it had to do with Daphne's case, and from the looks of things, Robards was not pleased.

It also looked as though Harry had slept in his uniform again. She was fairly certain those were the same clothes he'd been wearing when she had seen him yesterday. His thick, black hair stuck up at odd angles on the back of his head and the dark circles under his eyes were in stark contrast to his pale skin. If he had slept, it had not been well, and it was blatantly evident. Robards was now gesticulating towards Ron while yelling at Harry and Ginny wondered if he was comparing Harry to her brother. Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable and shot a nervous glance towards his partner before returning his gaze to the wall.

Ginny was as shocked as Ron and Robards when Harry suddenly sprang from his seat in the middle of the Head Auror's tirade to poke the elder officer in the chest with his index finger and yell Merlin only knew what in retaliation to the berating. When he was done having his say, Harry stormed out of the office without waiting for a reply.

He stomped down the corridor and instead of heading towards his own desk he barreled past the secretary sitting in the reception area of the Auror Office. Ignoring exclamations of protest as he brusquely shoved past witches and wizards, he stepped into an empty lift and immediately shut the door, barring anyone else from entering. The glaring look he sent those who had been waiting silenced any further protest they may have had.

Harry slapped the button that would take him to the third level of the Ministry where the office of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was located, before he slumped against the back wall and stared blankly at the floor. When the lift shuddered to a stop, he lifted his head, revealing haunted green eyes that appeared to look straight at Ginny.

Stepping out of the lift, he strode down the corridor, ignoring the greetings other witches and wizards called to him. He finally stopped outside a closed office door, knocking once before opening the door and stepping inside.

Ginny was shocked to see the face of Cho Chang look up from a stack of papers upon her desk as Harry entered. The smile that briefly touched the beautiful woman's lips upon his appearance in her doorway disappeared when she took in Harry's dismal countenance.

As she came around the desk Harry began venting to her and Cho nodded her head sympathetically. When Harry was finished speaking, he slumped wearily into a chair that sat in front of Cho's desk. Instead of responding to his rant, Cho reached for him. Ginny's throat constricted uncomfortably as she watched Cho pull Harry's head to her bosom and gently stroke his hair. His arms wrapped around her waist as he yielded to the comfort she was offering him.

Ginny released the crystal, breaking the connection, and allowed it to drop back against her robes. Immense guilt overwhelmed her at viewing a personal moment not meant for anyone's eyes. Even though she had not been able to hear anything that was said, it was an invasion of Harry's privacy to have observed any of it. All the same, it rankled Ginny that Harry had said nothing yesterday of knowing Cho. Surely he must have known that she was the girlfriend Ginny had been referring to when she told Harry about Cedric. From the brief scene Ginny had just witnessed, it was very clear that Harry and Cho shared some sort of close relationship.

Ginny could no longer deny the ache in her chest that had formed when she saw Cho and its meaning. Neville may have been correct in his assumption that she unconsciously fancied Harry, but Ginny realized her sudden feelings ran much deeper than physical attraction. She was already falling harder than she ever had before, and the alien feeling of true love sang in her veins. However, she did not have time to dwell on her discovery as the trapdoor to her classroom opened, admitting the first of her students.

It was Shelly, the most dedicated and gifted of all Ginny's seventh years. Pushing any lingering thoughts of Harry to the side Ginny greeted the girl.

"Good morning, Shelly. How did the meditation last week go?" Ginny asked as Shelly placed a mediation essay Ginny had assigned her class last week on her desk.

"Fairly well, I suppose. Everything is still so murky for me," Shelly replied, downtrodden.

"It will become clearer with practice," Ginny assured her. "It takes time to learn how to control what you see. I am still learning, as well."

Shelly nodded, taking in the colourful pillows on the floor, "Will we be doing more meditation today?"

"Yes," Ginny answered, as more of her students began entering the classroom. "Why don't you find a seat and I will explain what we will be doing today once everyone arrives."

It was a small class; counting Ginny they only numbered seven, but seven was a good number. At least, her mother had always said so. As the remaining five students entered, they greeted Ginny and handed in their essays before setting their satchels along the wall by the entrance and finding a spot in the circle. They chattered quietly while Ginny prepared the tea she wouldn't have time to drink. Leaving it to steep in the pot, Ginny joined her students in the circle.

"Last week I asked you to meditate and write an essay on what you experienced," Ginny began, looking around the group. "By now you should be adept at finding your inner self, and so today I want to take meditation one step further and attempt a group meditation."

The four girls and two boys in the class looked sceptical and intrigued and Ginny had to smile at the comical effect the conflicting emotions on their faces caused.

"If you have not already done so, please cross your legs and sit erect, relaxing your neck, shoulders, and back," Ginny said in a low, soothing voice she used when guiding a novice student. "Take the hand of the person sitting next to you until our circle is linked."

Ginny took the hands of the students sitting next to her. "We will focus on a single objective. Does anyone have a suggestion?"

"Which house is going to win the House Cup," Brian, a dark-haired Ravenclaw suggested, and the rest of the students nodded their agreement.

"All right," Ginny agreed, "that is a very specific suggestion, but not as simple as you may think. There are plenty of disparate factors that could change the outcome. However, we should be able to ease our way down a mutual path that will lead us somewhere. Whether or not we actually see the true answer depends on how focused we are as a group on our objective."

She gazed around the group ensuring everyone was in proper alignment and holding hands.

"Jacob, lower your chin until it is level with the ground. Good. Jeanine, back erect but not stiff. Roll your shoulders back and down so they aren't scrunched by your ears. Lovely. Louise, Victoria, nice even breaths, please. Listen to each other and breathe as one. Everyone rest your clasped hands on each other's knees so your arms won't tire. Now, close your eyes and focus on your surroundings. Listen to the sounds around you and allow them to guide you where they will."

When she was satisfied that her students were relaxed and focused, Ginny closed her own eyes to join them. Immediately, the faint aroma of the Darjeeling tea filled her nostrils with the first inhalation she took. The fire in the grate crackled hypnotically and concentrating on the breathing of the students nearest her, Ginny sank deeper within herself.

She hovered on an empty, greyish plane that had no substance or shape, but stretched endlessly in every direction. There was no up or down, forwards or backwards, left or right, it just was. Shelly's was the first presence Ginny sensed arriving on the plane, followed by Brian and then Jeanine. They drew closer to Ginny's reassuring presence, a beacon in the disconcerting void.

"Stay calm," Ginny murmured, allaying the apprehension her students were feeling. "All will become clear soon enough."

Even as she spoke, the grey was lightening, and Ginny concentrated on viewing the final Quidditch match of the year, still seven months away. If all went according to schedule it would be Gryffindor against Ravenclaw, and promised to be an exciting and close match, as both teams were comprised of veteran players who had been playing together for three years.

Jacob, Louise, and Victoria finally arrived, their excited tremor of accomplishment at having achieved group meditation rippling the plane around them.

"Control," Ginny counselled. "We are only observers here. Try to remain impassive."

Glancing about the plane, Ginny moved towards a pinprick of light that looked promising. She imagined it would lead them out onto the Quidditch pitch and even as the thought crossed her mind, the opening widened. Her students followed after her, treading carefully over the plane, as if afraid of falling.

Ginny focused on the light as it grew around them until in a blink of the eye they were standing in bright sunlight on what appeared to be a beautiful May day. Shielding her eyes, Ginny looked up into a cloudless, cerulean blue sky. It was the perfect kind of day to fly a broom or play Quidditch and Ginny felt a faint longing to call her Cleansweep Twelve and take a leisurely broom ride, or chase down a Snitch. She thought of the days long past when she played Seeker for the Gryffindor team, playing alongside her brothers, Fred, George, and Ron. If she were completely honest, it had been one of the happiest times of her life. They had been unstoppable; Fred and George always deflected the Bludgers to cause the opposing team's Chasers to fumble the Quaffle, Ron nearly always blocked their attempts at scoring, and Ginny always caught the Snitch.

A flash of red soared above her head, and glancing up Ginny saw the familiar red Quidditch robes of the Gryffindor team zooming over the pitch. A streak of blue from the corner of her eye told her Ravenclaw had entered the pitch, as well. The fourteen players criss-crossed each other as they flew through the air. Ginny could see the red Quaffle being passed back and forth between the Gryffindor Chasers as they attempted to keep it away from the Ravenclaws. They flew towards the Ravenclaw goalposts and scored.

She and her class stood at the edge of the pitch, silent and ghostly observers of the game. Ginny was following the Chasers back and forth, admiring their acrobatics when a flutter of gold near the Gryffindor goalposts caught her eye. The whole scene shimmered, the players blurring along the edges. Squinting her eyes, a blur of red and black bolted down the pitch towards the Golden Snitch still hovering by the goalposts. A blue clad Ravenclaw Seeker with streaming black hair shot after the Gryffindor Seeker.

"That's not April," Brian muttered, and Ginny knew he was referring to the Ravenclaw Seeker, April Hoosang, who had curly, chestnut brown hair.

"No," Ginny agreed, "That's Cho Chang, she was the Seeker for Ravenclaw when I attended Hogwarts."

Ginny knew it was her even though all she could see was the back of her head. After playing against the Ravenclaw Seeker for four years, and just seeing her in the scrying crystal, Ginny would recognize her form anywhere.

"Is this the past then?" Shelly asked.

"Perhaps," Ginny said, thinking on her past matches and attempting to place the one this scene could be recreating. Then it came to her; her first year on the team, and she still had been nervous, even with three winning matches under her belt. Cho had been a savvy Seeker, she shadowed the other Seekers, which usually resulted in throwing the opponent off their game. Ginny recalled feeling intimidated by the beautiful fourth year, who had exhibited such calm and grace on her broom, but she had been determined she was going to catch the Snitch before Cho did.

While Ginny remembered her first match playing against Cho, something about the visual appeared off. It kept shimmering around the edges, distorting the images and try as she might, Ginny could not gain a clear view of the Gryffindor Seeker who continued to barrel down the pitch towards the Snitch.

As she and her students observed the scene, Cho's blue and bronze Ravenclaw robes morphed, the colours blending together and fading to a solid Robin's egg blue. The goal posts she and the Gryffindor Seeker were headed towards faded, exposing an open plain beyond them that Ginny did not recognize. The Quidditch stands disappeared along with the goal posts and the once red and black robes of the Gryffindor Seeker transformed as Cho's had into navy blue.

Pulling up on the handle of the broom, the navy robed figure looked back towards Cho, his wind-swept raven hair revealing the silvery lightning bolt scar and his brilliant green eyes. Ginny was so startled to be seeing a vision of Harry that wasn't of his death she nearly lost the connection, but her rapt students, completely engrossed in the scene playing out before them, grounded her.

Harry was laughing, his eyes twinkling merrily as he held the Snitch he had just caught aloft for Cho to see. She pulled up next to him, lunging for the Snitch and promptly lost her balance in her haste to grab the fluttering golden ball from him. Harry's quick reflexes caught her before she could plummet to the ground. He deftly caught her around the waist, his hand still clutching the Snitch, and pulled her onto his ebony broom.

Several of Ginny's female students sighed in relief and envy, while Ginny could easily sense Brian and Jacob's annoyance at being treated to what they clearly saw as a scene taken from a romance novel.

"What happened to the Quidditch game?" Brian petulantly asked.

"Group meditation is difficult," Ginny replied, trying to ignore the couple drifting slowly downward. She was pleased to see dark shadows creeping over the ground, obscuring the scene as she wasn't keen on seeing what would have happened when Harry and Cho reached the ground themselves.

Her pleasure quickly diminished when a blood-curdling scream rent the air and she and her students were suddenly submerged in the cold darkness that had banished the vision of Harry and Cho. The panic of her students was evident and Ginny was about to reassure them and suggest severing the meditation when a bright, silvery light emerged out of the void, galloping directly towards Ginny.

She automatically reached her hand out as a majestic stag cantered over to her. Its silvery glow enveloped her, but as her hand made contact with its etherealness, it quickly faded into a grey mist that swirled around her and her students' feet.

"Help!" a female voice croaked from somewhere in the darkness in front of them.

"Professor Weasley," Jeanine whimpered.

"It's all right," Ginny reassured, even though she wasn't sure that it really was. Heading towards the sound, she peered into the darkness that surrounded them.

The creak of something metal could be heard and Ginny moved towards it, the trepidation her students were feeling causing her heart to anxiously thud in her chest. A rusted roundabout appeared in the darkness, slowly spinning and creaking with every revolution.

A cold, unforgiving wind gusted over the ground, whipping Ginny's hair about her face and shoulders. Swings beyond a see-saw swung back and forth on their chains.

"Help me," the plea was louder and Ginny moved around the roundabout.

"Professor Weasley," Shelly called. "Please be careful!"

"It's only a vision," Ginny reminded her. "We can't be hurt. Don't let your fear cause you to lose focus."

Even as she said it, she could see the scene was blurring around the edges. The erratic breathing of Louise, Victoria, and Jacob informing Ginny that they would be breaking the meditation soon.

Quickening her pace, she ran to the other side of the roundabout and saw another dark haired woman, bleeding profusely from deep gashes all over her torso. Her face was obscured by her long, curly hair, blood, and bruising. Her eyes were swollen to mere slits, her nose broken, and her lips split and swollen. She reached a bloody hand for Ginny, feebly brushing at the hem of her robes, and her mouth worked, trying to speak.

Jeanine's shriek of terror drowned out whatever the poor woman was attempting to say, and immediately Ginny felt Jeanine withdrawing, followed by the others. The vision began breaking apart, as Ginny knelt beside the dying woman.

"Who are you?" Ginny urgently asked. "Who did this to you?"

Blood leaked from the corner of the woman's mouth as she tried to form words with her ruined lips. "Ermihda An. K Rehfy."

"What?" Ginny pleaded. "I don't understand."

She reached for the woman's hand just as her image began dispersing into a black mist that swirled around Ginny. Her students' startled exclamations pulled Ginny completely from the vision. With her eyes still closed, Ginny swayed on her pillow attempting to get her bearings, even as her stomach churned with the disconcerting visions they had just experienced.

"It's the stag!" Brian's voice exclaimed.

"What does it want?" Victoria asked, her fear evident in her voice.

_"Ginny."_

Ginny opened her eyes fully at the sound of Harry's voice and stared at the ghostly life-size stag standing just inside the window, pawing nervously at the floor. Rising slowly to her feet, Ginny walked over to it, her students' protests becoming nothing more than the annoying sound of buzzing bees as she neared the stag. She reached for it as she had in the vision, but instead of disappearing, it gently nuzzled her hand before it began to speak.

_"There's been another attack. We could use your help again."_

As soon as the last word had been uttered, the stag faded. Ginny could not be certain how long the Patronus had been standing there waiting for her class to emerge from the meditation circle, but she could sense Ron's presence nearby. From the angle of the sun through the window, her class had been immersed in the vision for the full two hours of the class, giving Harry more than enough time to send the Patronus and arrive at the castle with her brother.

Quickly dismissing her class, she left them to gather their things and climbed down the ladder, ignoring their questions. As she had surmised, she found Ron and Harry waiting for her at the bottom.

"Sorry to bother you," Ron said without preamble, his dismay that they were involving her again very clear in his aura. She wondered about it as he continued, "We weren't sure if Harry's Patronus made it to you or not, but Professor McGonagall said we weren't to disturb your class."

Ginny nodded. "We were meditating, but yes, Harry's Patronus was waiting when we emerged." She glanced over at Harry, meeting his eyes. She was sad to see the twinkle they had held in the vision was gone, replaced by a dark storminess.

"Good," he said. "Can you accompany us now?"

Ginny had another class that afternoon, but the case and her need to follow it to its end was far more pressing than teaching her first years Palmistry.

"I can, just give me a moment," she answered, turning away from them as her students descended the ladder.

"Shelly," Ginny called as the blonde girl emerged in the trapdoor, "May I see you?"

Nodding, Shelly hurried down the ladder, glancing nervously over at Harry and Ron, her eyes lingering upon Harry, no doubt recognizing him from the vision.

"What is it, Professor Weasley," she asked, averting her gaze as Harry scowled at her.

"Would you be able to proctor my afternoon class?" Ginny asked.

Shelly's face brightened immediately and she smiled. "Of course, Professor! I'd love to."

Ginny returned her smile. "Great. Set them to read the chapter on Palmistry and then have them take a pop quiz on the material. You'll find the quiz in my desk."

"Yes, ma'am, I can handle that," Shelly assured her.

"I know you can," Ginny replied. "If Headmistress McGonagall should ask, please inform her I am aiding Aurors Potter and Weasley on a case. She will understand."

Ginny turned her attention back to Ron and Harry who both wore grim looks. She wondered if they knew who the second victim was yet, as she had already deduced the answer. It was Romilda Vane, another beautiful, dark-haired woman.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: **Not much to say this time around except thanks to my beta team, Arnel, seekers_destiny, and Brennus. They are awesome and I am so lucky to have the honor of working with them. I apologize ahead of time that this chapter is short, but it sets up the next which I promise you will enjoy immensely!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

They Apparated to the site this time. As soon as they had exited the gates to Hogwarts and were outside the anti-Apparition wards, Harry gave Ron a pointed look before turning on the spot and disappearing. Ginny wasn't surprised by his aloofness towards her, but she had to admit it rankled, and aggravatingly enough, hurt.

"Side-along Apparition, Ginny," Ron said apologetically, holding out his arm.

"What's going on?" Ginny demanded, not taking his arm. "I can tell you suddenly don't want to involve me anymore. Why?"

"I hate it when you read me, Ginny," Ron complained.

"I'm not even trying to read you, your face and demeanour tell me everything I need to know, Ron," Ginny retorted.

"We received a dressing down from Robards this morning," Ron confessed to her. "He told me I had no business involving you and questioned Harry's reasoning for allowing it in the first place."

"So, why am I here then?" Ginny asked and Ron snorted.

"Because the one thing I have learned is you never tell Harry how to run a case, not even if you are the Head Auror," Ron informed her. "Now we'd better go before Harry starts to wonder where are. He's on a bloody rampage and I do not want to cross him."

He held his arm out for Ginny to take, which she did so without another word. He spun on the spot and the familiar surroundings of Hogwarts swirled around them, disappearing and reforming into the desolate park Ginny had just seen in her meditation.

While it had been sunny at Hogwarts, it was overcast in this part of England and a mournful wind rustled the trees, causing the roundabout to creak and the chains on the swings to clank. Harry was standing just past the roundabout waving his wand over the ground.

Ginny stepped away from Ron, but didn't immediately go to where Harry was standing. She had already seen Romilda's battered body there, but that was not where she had died, Ginny could sense that. She turned in place, absorbing her surroundings. Anger and fear were still palpable under the surface, and she deduced that the tragic event had occurred sometime in the early morning. Across the lane stood a row half constructed Muggle shops. Plastic tarps covered the steel structure and bright, fluorescent bulbs hanging on long electrical cords lit the interiors of the incomplete shops. Only one shop at the end of the park looked to be finished. Ginny could make out glass-fronted doors at the back of the shop that appeared to already contain some stock on the shelves within. A few large yellow vehicles with black tires taller than herself sat in the dirt in front of the building. While stationary, they were intimidating, alien Muggle contraptions reminiscent of sleeping dragons.

Romilda's weak magical signature called to her from where the machines sat. Romilda had been another vain, beautiful girl from Hogwarts who had been cruel to anyone who did not meet her standards of perfection. That had been most of the school, but all the same, there had been plenty of boys who had fancied her, even the ones who never stood a chance.

"Where was her body found?" Ginny asked and was startled when Harry answered her from just over her shoulder.

"You tell me," he said.

"Another test, Auror Potter?" Ginny queried, glancing over her shoulder towards him. She was pleased that he appeared ruffled by her formality, and choosing to ignore him, reached out with her senses instead. She would be able to deduce where the victim had died without his help.

Romilda had somehow pulled herself upright by the roundabout. In a waking, meditative trance Ginny moved past Harry to walk around it. She passed her hand just above the curved metal bars children used to turn the roundabout and hang on for dear life until she came to the one Romilda had used for leverage.

"There's blood here," she said, not bothering to look at the bar her hand hovered over.

"Forensics already found that earlier," Harry stated. "It's been confirmed that it belongs to the victim."

Ginny continued around the roundabout and headed towards the lane, pausing before crossing over.

"I can see the white lorry again," she breathed, the marred surface of the lorry shimmering before her. "It was dark when he brought her here. Early morning perhaps. I can see him climbing out of the cab. There's a box in the back, and she's been shoved inside. I can hear her screaming, trying to get out."

"This is enough," Ron said, repulsed. "You don't have to do this, Ginny."

"Yes, I do," Ginny responded. "I already saw the victim this morning before you arrived, and know it's Romilda Vane." Both Ron and Harry looked astonished by this revelation and Ginny continued. "I need to do this. We're getting closer."

Satisfied that they would not bother her further, and with half-lidded eyes, Ginny returned to the trance. The killer walked down the driver's side of the lorry, prohibiting Ginny from gaining a clear view of him. He opened the box on the back of the lorry and dragged Romilda out by her hair. She struggled weakly as he pressed her up against the back of the truck, his wand at the side of her face. He pulled it down her cheek, a Cutting Curse leaving a deep, jagged gash in its wake. Romilda whimpered in agony as he viciously slashed at her throat and torso before shoving her forcefully away from him to clatter against the roundabout.

He retreated back to the cab of the lorry and drove away, leaving her there to bleed to death. Only, she had enough strength left in her to pull herself up and drag her body across the lane to the retail park. Ginny walked slowly across the lane, as well, following the ghostly trail Romilda had left behind.

Passing by the hulking yellow machines sitting cold and silent in the car park, Ginny moved past them, heading towards the pavement that ran in front of the shop fronts. She stopped several feet from the pavement and raised her hands, beating the air in front of her.

"Please, is anyone in there?" she muttered, her hands rapping weakly against the metal cab door of a tanker that had been hidden by the construction machinery.

"There's nothing there." Harry spoke in a hushed tone from behind her and Ginny turned her head slightly towards him.

"She died here, in the arms of a Muggle," she said, sinking to the gravel and touching the ground. "He was sleeping in his truck, and was startled awake by her knocking. He contacted the local authorities before trying to save her."

"Yes," Harry replied in a shocked whisper. "You can see all of that?"

"He is in his early forties, with a large build, brown hair and beard shot with grey," Ginny said, describing the Muggle who had been the last person to see Romilda alive. "He was crying when the authorities arrived, and feels guilty. He thinks if he hadn't been asleep he might have noticed the white lorry and seen the murderer, perhaps even have been able to apprehend him."

"You accurately described what the Muggle experienced," Harry admitted. "But what we could really use is something more on the murderer."

"Harry," Ron angrily interjected.

"No, it's all right, Ron," Ginny said, waving away any reservations her brother may have. "Let's go back to where he parked the lorry. Maybe I can see something."

They quickly walked back across the street and stood on the pavement just in front of the roundabout. It creaked in the blustery fall wind, a lonely sound under the grey sky in the deserted park. The faint echo of Romilda's desperation as the murderer drove away still hung in there air. Her fear of dying and knowing she would die alone sent a chill down Ginny's spine.

Again the fear of the victim was overpowering what was driving the murderer. Ginny could not gain a clear idea of what his objective was, other than causing immense pain

to dark-haired women.

"He has a deep-seated hatred for beautiful, dark-haired women," Ginny said.

"We're beginning to gather that much," Harry replied. "We need more than that. A why he has this hatred, what he looks like, that sort of thing."

Ginny closed her eyes and reviewed the scene, focusing on when the murderer stepped back into the lorry and began driving away. In her mind she stood near the hood of the lorry and peered intently inside the cab as he drove away. The first time the lorry sped away too quickly for her to gain a good look at the driver.

Replaying the scene, she stepped towards the lorry as it passed her, making eye contact with the murderer. His cold, dark blue eyes seared into hers, and a wave of nausea washed over Ginny as she felt the full brunt of his malice for the first time. Bitterness welled inside her, acrimony for all the evil in the world that had denied him a normal life. He blamed the Wizarding world. She tried to gain a clearer picture of his face, but aside from his piercing eyes, his features were fuzzy, as if something were obscuring them. There was something very familiar about him and Ginny had a very strong impression that she knew him.

"He's young, early twenties I would guess, has blue eyes, dark blond hair," Ginny rasped. "He thinks the world has robbed him, and he wishes he had never learned about the Wizarding world."

"He's a Muggle-born!" Ron exclaimed and Ginny nodded, allowing the disturbing images and feelings of the killer to fade.

"Yes," Ginny said, looking between Ron and Harry. "There's something else. I think I know him, but something is preventing me from seeing him clearly. Romilda spoke to me in the vision I received today. She tried to tell me who killed her, but I couldn't understand her. She said it was K Rehfy, but that name doesn't ring any bells. I think she was trying to say something else, but couldn't form the word correctly due to the severe beating. Her face was badly disfigured."

"It was," Harry attested. "Even her parents had difficulty identifying her."

"She was a few years below us at Hogwarts, but she had been a beauty," Ron said. "I remember plenty of blokes who fancied her, but she turned her nose up to most of the advances."

"She wanted a celebrity," Ginny expounded. "Again, like Daphne she wasn't the nicest person at Hogwarts, but I can't see how her actions would lead to someone wanting to cause her harm. She was a Gryffindor and supposedly on the light side, unlike Daphne."

"It has nothing to do with Houses," Harry grimly stated. "You've already said he's singling out women who fit a certain aspect; beautiful, dark hair, possibly vain with superiority complexes."

"So, what do we have to go on now?" Ron asked rhetorically before clicking off case points regarding the suspect, "Muggle-born, blue eyes, dark blond, average height, drives a white, open-sided lorry with blue lettering on the cab. Am I missing anything?"

"That about sums it up," Harry said. "We need to get back to the office. Dudley may be able to give us some insight regarding what businesses use open-sided lorries. That may help us narrow down the list of Muggle-borns."

He looked between Ron and Ginny, "In the meantime, we should begin collating a list of Muggle-borns that fit the description Ginny just gave us, starting with men in their early twenties who matriculated through Hogwarts over the past fifteen years."

"Fifteen years!" Ron exclaimed. "Merlin, Harry, it will take days to look through all that parchment!"

"Then we had better get started," Harry replied before looking over at Ginny. "Thank you for your help."

"May I come back with you?" Ginny asked, suddenly thinking perhaps if she saw a picture of a student something would come to her and telling Harry and Ron this. "Maybe I could start looking through the files with you? Something might come to me, especially if I already know the killer. Perhaps if I see a picture of him it will all become clear."

"That would be great," Harry admitted. "If you have the time."

"I don't have anywhere to be until tomorrow morning," Ginny said.

They Apparated to the secured Apparition point in a secluded alley outside the coffee shop located near the Ministry and hurried inside, joining the queue of other ministry workers standing in front of the row of grates at the back of the shop. Ginny was looking forward to becoming a more active participant in the case. She took it as a good sign that Harry had acquiesced so easily to her offer and hoped that meant he had forgiven her for yesterday.

When they arrived in the Atrium, they immediately headed towards the row of lifts.

"I'm going to stop on four, if that's all right, Harry," Ron said when a lift arrived and they stepped inside. "I want to tell Hermione to be sure to let me know when she is heading home. You can't be too careful."

"Fine," Harry said. "Just don't be too long."

They rode in silence, Ron getting off on four, leaving Harry and Ginny alone in the car. He stared straight ahead at the wood-panelled doors, apparently lost in thought, and Ginny remained quietly by his side. She reflected that Ron was keen to warn Hermione, who wasn't even a dark brunette in regards to the killer, but Harry did not seem concerned over Cho's welfare. Ginny longed to ask him about the woman, but then he would know she had seen him that morning embracing her. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment that she had stooped to using her gift for spying. That was something she hadn't done since she had been a student at Hogwarts and had learned her lesson when she saw Michael kissing Padma Patil. She had already planned on breaking things off with him, but to see him kissing another girl before she had the chance to do so had been a tough pill to swallow.

Michael had been livid when she confronted him, so Ginny could only imagine what Harry would think and do if she told him she had seen him in her scrying crystal that morning. He had not reacted very well when he thought she had somehow made him confess to her yesterday. But, she couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't mentioned knowing Cho to her yesterday, when Ginny had told him about Cedric. Surely, he must have known that Cho was the girlfriend Ginny had been referring to. Again, she could not ask him without revealing her lapse in better judgment.

The lift slowed to a stop at their destination and Ginny put thoughts of Harry and Cho aside until a later time. She hadn't been to the Auror Office since Ron had begun working there two years ago. Her work as a professor kept her away for most of the year, and when she was on holiday, she spent most of her time at The Burrow. Not much had changed since the last time she had been there, with the exception of the addition of a few more desks beyond the reception area to accommodate the growing numbers on the force.

A sombre looking older witch sat at the reception desk, her greying hair sticking out from underneath the pointed blue hat she was wearing. She wore the standard navy robes, but hers were adorned with frilly white lace along the collar and at the cuffs. She sat stiffly at attention as Head Auror Robards stood behind her reviewing the sign out log.

He glanced up when he heard the lift and his red face grew livid when he saw Ginny step out of the car after Harry.

"Potter!" Robards angrily shouted across the room. "What is Weasley's sister doing here? I thought I made it clear this morning that we do not need her services on this case!"

His tone and words made Ginny feel dirty and her face flushed scarlet. She avoided Harry's gaze as he stiffened beside her.

"_Professor_ Weasley has been an invaluable aide to us," Harry said through gritted teeth before adding a belated 'sir'.

Robards was not about to back down in a room full of his junior officers. "Get her out of here now!" he commanded.

Harry stood rooted to the floor just outside the lift doors, glaring daggers at Robards. Ginny quietly moved to the call button and pressed it gently, willing the lift to return before things turned ugly. While she couldn't read Harry, Robards acrimony practically sizzled in the air around them. She did not feel that his anger was directed towards her per se. She had met Robards on several occasions in the past, and while he wasn't the warmest of individuals, he had always treated her with respect. Harry had clearly stepped over the line by blatantly disregarding an order from Robards and a struggle for domination was silently being played between the two men.

The bell for the lift pinged loudly in the suddenly hushed room and the doors whispered open. Ginny stepped back into the car, holding her hand against the door to keep them from closing.

"Auror Potter?" she called, thinking it was best to keep things as professional as possible in front of the Head Auror.

Instead of acknowledging her, Harry stepped over to the reception desk and waved his wand over a pile of blank parchment sitting on the corner of the desk.

"Myrtle," Harry said, ignoring the incensed look Robards was giving him. "Would you please have these files sent to my office? I will retrieve them shortly."

Turning on his heel, he walked slowly back to where Ginny was waiting and entered the lift, while Robards glanced down at what was written on the parchment.

"None of this will be admissible, Potter!" he roared. "You are wasting your, mine, and Professor Weasley's time! Get your head screwed on straight or don't bother coming back here!"

"Your opinion has been duly noted," Harry said, giving Robards a mocking salute before the lift doors closed off Robards angry retort. Ginny stared over at Harry as he jabbed the Atrium button. She felt a slight drop in her stomach as the lift began its descent, but otherwise the only sound that could be heard was Harry grinding his teeth in anger. She was still somewhat dismayed by Robards reaction to her presence, but Harry had defended her. A small bubble of happiness bounced in her belly.

"Thank you," she said softly, and Harry looked over at her with a puzzled expression. "For sticking up for me," she added.

Harry shrugged. "He was being an arse."

The lift stopped on level four to admit a wizard going to down and revealed Ron waiting for an up lift. His face registered surprise when he saw Harry and Ginny inside and he quickly stepped in after the tall wizard, pushing past him to stand beside Harry.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I expected to see you in the office."

"Robards took exception to my bringing Ginny back there," Harry answered and Ron grimaced.

"Didn't I tell you this morning it was a bad idea involving Ginny anymore?" he asked.

"I disagree," Harry responded, and Ginny couldn't help but notice the way Ron's eyes narrowed as he studied his partner. She clearly sensed from Ron that he suspected Harry had ulterior motives to continuing to include Ginny in the investigation.

"I do, too," Ginny said. "I want to see this through to the end." She thought about her own motives for wanting to continue to help on the case that had everything to do with getting to know Harry better. She would like nothing more than to get into his mind and wondered if she would ever be able to persuade him to attempt to meditate with her. Would she see his death again or would she see more images similar to the one she had seen that day? Remembering the scene between him and Cho reminded Ginny that he may be attached to the beautiful Ravenclaw and brought her musings to an abrupt standstill.

Cho was dark-haired and beautiful, meeting part of the criteria the killer seemed to look for in his victims. While she had never exhibited a vain or disdainful personality, some may take Cho's aloofness as a superior attitude. Ron had gone to warn Hermione immediately of the danger despite the fact that her hair was a much lighter colour than that of the victims. Harry had thus far still made no mention of needing to alert Cho and did not appear to be in any hurry to do so.

"Should we have the _Prophet _print a warning for witches?" Ginny quietly asked the two men as the lift doors opened at the Atrium and the wizard who had entered the lift with Ron stepped out. "Since Ron felt the need to warn Hermione, perhaps others should be alerted as well."

"I don't want to cause undue panic," Harry replied exiting into the Atrium.

"There's no one you think should be warned?" Ginny pressed, following after him with Ron, and Harry turned back to look at her with a puzzled expression.

"Do you think I should alert someone in particular?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "You know what is best, I am sure."

"I'd like to review the case notes a bit more before making any further statements to the press," Harry said, walking towards the grates connected to the Floo Network. "The public who have read both articles relating to the murders are smart enough to make their own deductions in regards to the killer's M.O."

He stopped by an empty grate and turned to Ron. "Ron, go back to the office and collect the files I have requested from Myrtle. You may have to wait."

"What? You aren't coming back with me?" Ron asked.

"Robards isn't expecting me back today," Harry answered dismissively, "But I want those files. I trust you can get them past him."

"You know I can," Ron assured him. "Where are you going to be?"

"We could go back to Hogwarts, if you would like," Ginny suggested. "My classroom will be free by now and it's fairly comfortable."

Harry nodded. "That's a good idea. Bring them there, Ron."

"All right," Ron agreed. "I'll head there as soon as I can. It might take Myrtle awhile, especially if Robards is as upset as he was this morning with us." Ron didn't look pleased to have to return to the office and deal with the Head Auror on his own.

"Sorry, mate." Harry said apologetically.

"Don't worry, I can handle Robards," Ron said. "You need to learn to do what I do - stare at the wall behind his shoulder and go to your happy place until he is done ranting. Mine is of Hermione, fixing breakfast. She's wearing an apron and…"

Harry's expression soured, and Ginny held up her hand, grimacing. "Stop. We get the picture.

"It works every time," Ron vowed with a grin, either ignoring or oblivious to the dark look Harry was giving him.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Just imagining sausages cooking in a griddle pan would work for you."

"True," Ron admitted, still grinning.

"Just go," Harry groused. "Do whatever you need to to deal with Robards, and we'll see you later."

Ron nodded as Harry gestured for Ginny to use the grate before him. She did so, calling for The Three Broomsticks. The green flames flared around her, obscuring Harry, Ron, and the Atrium of the Ministry. Grates swirled past her vision until slowly coming to a stop. She stepped swiftly out of the grate and moved to the side to make room for Harry's entrance.

Madam Rosmerta looked up from where she was serving some locals at the bar and waved when she saw that it was Ginny. Ginny returned her greeting just as the flames flared green once more, emitting Harry. He stepped smoothly from the grate, waving absently at Rosmerta who had suddenly taken a great interest in the couple standing by her fireplace.

"Hello, handsome," she called, her eyes roving appreciatively over Harry, "It's been a long time since I've seen you, Harry. I've missed you. Stay and have a drink, won't you?" She beckoned a stool that stood directly in front of her, leaning over as she did so to expose her ample cleavage in the tight peasant blouse she was wearing.

Harry didn't appear to notice as he walked quickly towards the door. "Maybe next time, Rosmerta," he called, opening the door for Ginny. "I'm here on business."

Ginny followed him, casting a backward glance at Rosmerta who now looked disappointed that they were not going to stay and patronize her pub. Either that or she was dumbfounded that a warm-blooded male had blatantly ignored her advances. Ginny was certain that did not happen very often, if at all.

Ginny walked past him smirking. "Looks like Rosmerta fancies you," she whispered and was welcomed to the sight of Harry's cheeks turning pink. She was so taken aback by his reaction that she stumbled down the step, only to be saved from falling to the pavement by Harry's hand firmly gripping her upper arm.

"Karma," he uttered, showing his half grin again.

"Thanks," Ginny grumbled, righting herself as he let go her arm.

"I've known Rosmerta," Harry began and Ginny finished for him, "A long time. I'm beginning to gather that, Harry. You seem to already know everyone of importance around here."

"I didn't know you," he said, heading up the lane towards the school gates.

Now it was Ginny's turn to blush. "I'm not important."

"I beg to differ," he said, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "You've been an invaluable help on this case." He glanced over at her. "I'm sorry about Robards."

Ginny shrugged. "I won't say it wasn't a bit of a shock, but I'll get over it."

"He's frustrated that we don't have many leads," Harry explained. "Not that this is an excuse for his behaviour, but he thinks I am grasping at straws."

"Are you?" Ginny asked.

"I thought that at first," Harry admitted, "But after today, I would be a fool to doubt your gift anymore. It's amazing."

Ginny allowed his praise to settle over her, and she smiled. They continued on towards the gates, stopping only when they reached them. Ginny began pulling her wand to cast the unlocking charm only Hogwarts professors were privy to, but Harry was quicker. He waved his wand silently over the gates and they slowly parted, swinging towards them until they hung parallel with the lane.

"I suppose Professor Dumbledore shared that with you?" Ginny asked, and Harry simply nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Ginny proceeded up the lane, hearing the gravel crunch indicating Harry was following. A moment later the gates quietly clanged shut.

"You are very adept at nonverbal spells," Ginny observed.

"I had proficient instructors," Harry replied. "They couldn't emphasise enough the importance of not calling out spells and giving your opponent a chance to deflect. Not that it really mattered all that much in the end."

His expression was dark a moment before brightening slightly. "Plus, it's easier and quicker. For a lazy bloke like me, nonverbal spells are a plus."

"You are far from lazy," Ginny admonished, even though she could not be certain of that. However, from Harry's own actions and what Ron and Neville had said, she knew her statement held more truth than Harry's.

"You don't know me very well yet," Harry replied, and Ginny's heart flip-flopped. Yet meant that, perhaps, he wanted her to get to know him better. It meant that this might only be the beginning of them working together or otherwise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes: **Not much to say here, but I hope you enjoy the Harry/Ginny fluff at the beginning of this chapter :) Many thanks to my fantastic beta team, Arnel, seekers_destiny, and Brennus. More notes at the end.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

As was her routine whenever she was in her classroom, Ginny immediately lit the fire in the grate and set the kettle on its hook to boil as soon as she and Harry arrived. She settled at her desk and began absently shuffling through the stack of quizzes Shelly had left there for her. Harry wandered about the room, examining the decor with interest. Ginny loved the cosiness of her classroom, as it reminded her so much of her home, but watching Harry scrutinise every little detail left her feeling slightly embarrassed. What did it matter what he thought of the crocheted rainbow-hued afghan that was normally thrown over the back of a worn love seat in the corner of the room he was currently examining? Ginny wasn't even sure why she still had the love seat in the classroom, as it was never used. When she had first decorated her classroom, she had thought she would use the love seat for meditation. However, with the bustle of classes and school events, she wound up doing most of her meditation in her bedroom and she had never given the love seat a second thought until now.

He moved on, noting the pile of colourful pillows stacked in a box along the wall with a raised eyebrow. Trying to see the room through his eyes, Ginny supposed it probably looked to him as if a rainbow had exploded, but the bright colours made Ginny happy. Not to mention that she had found being happy, calm, and relaxed led to the most productive meditations.

Doing her best to ignore Harry as he progressed to the cabinet that contained the mismatched crockery she used for her Tasseomancy lessons, Ginny focussed on brewing the tea. She definitely needed something to calm her nerves, as after examining the crime scene and then the brief, but belittling encounter with Robards, she needed to unwind before Ron arrived with the files Harry had requested.

Opening the drawer that contained various teas, she chose an Oolong and pulled it and a small box of sugar cubes out to place on top her desk. Closing the drawer, she was about to retrieve her tea pot and cup when she realised that perhaps Harry would like some tea as well. She glanced his way to find him still absorbed in examining the assortment of tea pots and cups in her collection.

She flicked her wand towards the cabinet and it opened, allowing a plain cream ceramic teapot and two matching cups and saucers to sail over to her desk. Harry turned to look at her with a quizzical expression.

"Would you care for some tea, Harry?" Ginny called, indicating the kettle that was now steaming.

Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What for?"

"To drink, what else?" Ginny asked.

"You're not going to try to read my tea leaves now, are you?" he warily asked.

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind," Ginny honestly replied before grinning mischievously, "But I will if you want me to. Just for fun." She resisted the urge to wink at him, but her eye twitched all the same. She hadn't thought of reading his leaves, but now that he had mentioned it, it might be a non-threatening way of further breaking the ice. "Tasseomancy isn't about predicting the future or discovering the past. It's solely up to the drinker and the reader to decide what they think the symbols in the leaves mean. Anyone can do that. As a matter of fact, I'll even let you read my leaves."

Harry snorted at this comment, but she could tell his interest had been piqued and she smiled. "Think about it. The tea will be ready in a few minutes," Ginny said and he nodded, his attention already distracted by the ceiling of the classroom. As she prepared the tea, she could see him walking in a circle as best he could around the tables to study the intricately drawn circle painted on the ceiling.

"My friend, Luna, painted that for me," Ginny called, placing a generous amount of the Oolong into the bottom of the teapot before adding the water.

"Is it merely decoration?" Harry inquired. "Or is it a tool?"

"A little of both," Ginny answered, Summoning a small pitcher of cream from the kitchens along with a plate of sandwiches. Her stomach rumbled appreciatively, as it was getting close to supper and they hadn't had lunch. "It lends power to meditation. That's what I was doing with my seventh year class this morning before you arrived. We were attempting our first group meditation."

"How did that go?" Harry asked

"Well," Ginny said. "We saw Romilda, as you already know."

"Is that all you saw? I heard some of your students as they left talking about my Patronus appearing in the vision, and something else about me and a girl on a broom, as well?" He dropped his gaze from the ceiling to look directly at her.

"My students were hoping to witness the outcome of the final Quidditch match," Ginny evasively answered, not sure if now was the appropriate time to confront him about Cho.

"What did you see?" Harry pressed. "Did you know the girl?"

"As a matter of fact, I did and do," Ginny said, looking directly into his bright green eyes with her own brown ones. "It was Cho Chang. Do _you_ know her?"

Harry's eyes darkened and his lips formed a thin line. "I thought you couldn't read me."

"I can't," Ginny affirmed, her own eyes darkening in sudden anger. "Why didn't you mention you knew Cho when I told you about Cedric yesterday? You must have known she was the girlfriend I was talking about."

"I didn't see how my knowing or not knowing Cho was relevant to the story," Harry replied.

"Of course it was relevant!" Ginny sputtered.

"I met her several years after that event," Harry stated, "and we only ever talked about Cedric once. You didn't sense I knew Cho when you were talking to me yesterday?"

Ginny shook her head and a look of confusion crossed Harry's face. "If you can't read me, how did you see me and Cho? What were we doing?"

"Playing Quidditch," Ginny answered. "Alone." She tried to keep the jealousy out of her voice, but she wasn't certain how successful she was.

"Oh," Harry replied, and Ginny could tell he knew exactly what she had seen.

"How do you know her?" Ginny asked.

"We met in Ireland not long after the end of the war," Harry answered. "She had joined the Muggle Liaison Force, and was assigned to their satellite office in Dublin. I was on assignment for the Auror Office, apprehending Voldemort's stragglers."

In the early days, after the war, Ginny had read in the _Prophet_ of some of Voldemort's followers fleeing to other countries in the hope of escaping prosecution. Some of them had not been too bright, however, and had thought it would be fun to harass local Muggles.

"I read about some dim Snatchers making life miserable for Muggles," Ginny commented.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Anyway, my job, of course, was to apprehend them and Cho's was to smooth things over with the Muggle authorities. She's very good at her job."

"I know," Ginny said. "I went to school with her. She's a good person, too." It hurt to admit that, no matter how true it was. Cho had always been sincere, if a bit on the emotional side, while at Hogwarts. She'd been nice to Ginny when others had been tormenting her. Not that Cho overtly went out of her way to befriend Ginny, but she had offered an encouraging word or two and hadn't joined in the ridicule Ginny had dealt with on a daily basis for over a year. "She was always nice to me."

"And to me," Harry agreed.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at this remark and Harry's cheeks reddened. "I know what you saw, but that was a long time ago. Right after we first met. We had a nice time of it for a while, but," he hesitated, casting his eyes to the side to look over at the crockery cabinet. "I was too moody, even for her."

"You're moody?" Ginny sarcastically asked. "I hadn't noticed that about you."

Harry looked back at her, his expression unreadable for a split second before his lips curled into his patented half smile. "Heh. Consider Cho one of 'my many lovers'."

Ginny felt her cheeks flush, and she quickly began pouring tea into the two cups before her in order to not have to look at him. "I'm sorry. I'm being nosy."

"It's all right," Harry's voice sounded closer, and Ginny looked up to see him standing in front of her desk. "I'd like to get to know you better, too." He said the last in such a rush, Ginny wasn't certain she had caught it all, but the slight colouring of his face and the worry in his eyes made her smile up at him.

She indicated the chair nearest her desk. "Have a seat, Harry." Both sides of his mouth curled up in a small, but genuine smile and something deep within Ginny purred happily at the sight.

"I like the decor of your classroom," Harry remarked as he took the proffered seat. "It's inviting. It feels like a home, not a classroom."

"Really?" Ginny asked, sliding his cup and saucer across her desk.

Harry nodded. "If I was a student here, I wouldn't mind taking Divination, I don't think."

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said, mildly shocked by his comment. "I modelled my classroom after my mum's kitchen. It helps when I am homesick and am too busy to pop home." She looked over at him and smiled. Harry held her gaze a moment before looking down into the amber liquid in his cup.

"I'm sorry I suspected you of making me open up to you yesterday. I knew, even as I was accusing you that you aren't like that," he said. "You have to understand, my track record with seers has not been the best."

Ginny nodded. "I know."

"But, you aren't like any of them," Harry stated, looking back up to meet her eyes.

"No, I think not," Ginny agreed.

Harry nodded and pulled the sugar bowl closer to him. Scooping two sugar cubes onto his spoon, he dropped them into the tea and began stirring it. "So, is there anything special I need to do before I drink this?"

"Well, for starters, you shouldn't have put sugar in it," Ginny flatly stated. She burst out laughing when he dropped his spoon onto his saucer and looked at her in dismay. "Just kidding."

The range of emotion that crossed his face in a matter of seconds went from shock, to anger, to annoyance. "I can't say I've ever had a woman tease me before," he grumbled.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at this remark. "They were probably scared to. What with you being moody and all."

Harry's eyes darkened and his brows knitted together as he continued to glare at her, and Ginny was suddenly fearful that she had overstepped a line with him. She bit her lip nervously and was about to apologize profusely for upsetting him when his face broke out into a broad grin that sent her heart fluttering.

"Two can play that game," Harry said congenially before his smile fell and he looked at Ginny seriously. "So, you had no idea I was kidding?"

Ginny shook her head, and Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "Why? You can sense what that Muggle at the crime scene was feeling, but you can't even tell whether I'm angry or not when I am sitting right across from you."

"I don't know, Harry," Ginny said. "I can't understand it."

"My uncle always used to say I was a freak," Harry muttered, picking up his tea cup and swirling the contents within.

"You are not a freak," Ginny insisted. "It's similar to what I experience with myself. I have never been able to foresee my own future, and believe me I have tried. Why don't we try again?" She pointed to the tea cup Harry was holding. "To answer your question of what you need to do; try to clear your mind and think about what you would like to have some insight on. Reflect upon that thought as you quietly sip the tea and enjoy a sandwich or two."

"Seriously?" Harry asked sceptically, raising his eyebrows in mild disbelief.

Ginny nodded. "Seriously."

"That doesn't seem so hard," Harry said agreeably, selecting a sandwich from the plate.

"Just be sure not to drink all of the tea," Ginny advised. "You need a bit to swirl the remaining tea leaves before tipping your cup over the saucer."

Harry gazed thoughtfully into the shallow depths of the cup, taking an absent-minded bite from his sandwich. Ginny turned her own thoughts inward and took a sandwich for herself. She took a moment, like Harry, to simply chew her food and attempted to single out an individual thought to focus on. Her mind was a jumble with the anxiousness of discovering who the murderer could be and Harry's sudden, somewhat relaxed openness with her. He wasn't joking when he said he was moody. He was as changing as the wind and she was having difficulty keeping up with him. Not that she wasn't up to the challenge. She couldn't remember a time when she had felt more alive than when she was with Harry. Certainly not since Fred's death.

As her thoughts turned more towards her burgeoning feelings for Harry, Ginny knew she was already being guided to what she needed to reflect upon as she sipped her tea. Picking up her cooling cup, she took a small sip as she focussed on learning if she had a potential future with Harry. It was an obtuse request, that could have a variety of symbols and interpretations, but he had been one of the only thing's she could think about over the past four days. Surely that had to mean something. Not to mention that she was fairly certain that her subconscious had been leading the group meditation that morning. She was certain that the scene she had seen in her scrying crystal had linked her to Cho through Harry, and that was how she had been able to see them together. It was clearly a cherished memory of Cho's. Ginny had to wonder why she had apparently given up so easily on Harry if her feelings for him were that strong.

Taking another sip, Ginny glanced over at Harry who had finished his sandwich and was starting on his second while his left hand gripped his cup. In fact, his hand was clenched around the cup so tightly, his knuckles were white as he stared intensely into the crackling fire and he chewed furiously on his sandwich. He looked the exact opposite of relaxed.

Ginny reached over and lightly placed her hand upon his left arm. "Relax, Harry, remember? This isn't life or death; we're just drinking tea."

He nodded, his grip loosening on his cup. She kept her hand resting on his arm a moment longer, taking another sip of her own tea as she did so. When she finally felt the last of the tension leave his arm, Ginny reluctantly withdrew her hand and picked up her sandwich. She took a bite, but found her hunger had waned as anticipation built within her. Setting the sandwich back on her plate, she took a few deep breaths before drinking more of her tea. With each sip she thought about how she wanted Harry to open up to her completely so she could understand him better and perhaps find the answer to why she could not read him. She felt the two were intertwined and she also felt a deep need to become permanently entangled in his life in some shape or form. She also hoped that he was thinking the exact same thing, only about herself.

Taking a final sip of her tea, she set her cup back in its saucer just as Harry did the same and she smiled over at him.

"Finished?" she asked, glancing into his cup to find tea leaves clumped along the sides and bottom, with just enough liquid to swirl them all together.

"I think so," Harry nervously answered. "Now what?"

Ginny raised her own cup, the insides of which looked very similar to Harry's and swirled the liquid within three times before gently and quickly dumping the remaining liquid in her saucer. She left the cup overturned. "Swirl your cup three times, and then dump it over the saucer. Leave it overturned in the saucer to allow the leaves to settle into their place."

Harry did as Ginny had done, and when he was finished, he blew out a long breath as he looked across the desk at her. "Who first?"

Ginny pushed her saucer and cup over to him. "Why don't you look at mine first?"

Taking the saucer from her, Harry quickly picked up the cup and turned it over, looking inside. His brow furrowed and he squinted his eyes as he gazed at the contents. "Looks like a bunch of blobs to me," he uttered.

"Do you know anything about reading leaves?" Ginny asked with a small laugh.

"No," Harry said. "Have a beginner's guide I can use?"

Pulling the bottom drawer of her desk open, Ginny withdrew a copy of _Walking with Spirits_ and handed it to Harry. "This is the book my third year students use. You'll find a list of the basic symbols in the first chapter."

Harry flipped through the first few pages until he found the table that listed images and their possible meanings. He scanned over the list while alternately peering into the cup.

"All right," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose and glancing over at Ginny before bowing his head back down to examine the cup. "I see something that looks like a sun a child would draw and an oval."

"All right," Ginny said. "Those are positive images, Harry." She would be pleased if those were the actual symbols within her cup, as they both meant new beginnings. "What else do you see?"

"Er, some sort of animal. A rabbit?" He sounded uncertain and referenced the book again before looking back into the cup. "Yeah, a rabbit with long ears." He snorted as he read what it meant. "What were you thinking about? Says here a rabbit or hare represents important changes in your love life."

Ginny's cheeks coloured and she scowled at him. "It's a general reference. Some prefer to think it means love, but a rabbit can mean any change in your life personal or otherwise."

Harry studied her a moment, before smirking. "I think you're lying. You know I was seeing Cho for a while, but you haven't mentioned a bloke."

"That's because there isn't one, not that it's any of your business," Ginny retorted.

"I find that hard to believe," Harry stated. "Besides, how can I do an accurate reading if you aren't honest with me?"

"I am being honest!" Ginny said, suddenly despising how her pale skin showed her blushes so easily. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and Harry smiled knowingly. "Stop being a prat and read the bloody cup!"

Harry raised his eyebrows and his grin broadened. "You're right, this is fun. Much more so than when you read my palms the other day." He tipped the cup towards him once more. "An oyster playing a harp? And a finger and a circle, I think."

"What is the finger pointing to?" Ginny asked, resisting the urge to grab her cup from him and see for herself if what he was seeing was really in the leaves. She pressed her hand to her heart to keep it from jumping out of her chest. New love, romance, passion, desire, culminating in marriage was what Harry had just read in her cup.

"The circle, why?" Harry asked and looked up at her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, reaching over to tug the Divination book away from him before he could read what those symbols meant. "I'll just look over your leaves."

"You can't tell me you need the book to do that," Harry said, pulling on the book. "I haven't looked up these symbols yet."

"You told me enough," Ginny said, keeping a firm hold on the book.

"But, what do they mean?" Harry pressed before suddenly releasing the book and studying her closely. "You look pale. You aren't going to faint again, are you? I didn't think reading leaves would be taxing on you." He looked at her with worry clear in his eyes.

"I'm fine, honestly," she assured him before quickly picking up his cup and turning it over. Her eyes widened in shock and the cup slipped from her fingers at the sight of the symbols she saw within. A long-eared hare, an oyster, harp, egg, and finally a finger pointing towards a ring. All the symbols were encompassed in a circle that looked like the blazing sun. It rolled across her desk and fell to the floor, breaking into three pieces.

"May I see my cup?" Ginny whispered.

"What? Why?" Harry asked. "What was in there?" He stood up and moved around to her side of the desk. Ginny thought he was going to bend to retrieve the broken pieces of his cup, but instead he knelt in front of her. "Ginny, what did it tell you?"

His eyes were alight with fear as he gazed at her. She could only begin to wonder what he thought the cup had told her. She tentatively reached out her right hand and cupped his cheek. Harry was clearly startled by her gesture, but didn't pull away from her touch.

""It told me you're on the path to a new beginning, too, Harry," she softly said.

"Really?" he asked, the bright hope filling his eyes causing her heart to ache and making her want to know now more than ever what could have brought him to such an obvious low-point in his life.

"Yes," she answered, lowering her hand from his face to reach for her cup that he was still tightly holding. She raised it between them and looked over the rim, her heart beating loudly in her ears. The interior of her cup looked nearly identical to Harry's. "It looked exactly like mine."

She looked back up to find Harry still staring at her, transfixed, and she suddenly became aware of how close they were to one another. Her hand still held his and she gripped it tighter as she pulled him closer or he moved of his own accord, she wasn't certain. Harry's eyes were deep, dark pools of green she was falling into, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from them, even if she had wanted to. She licked her lips in anticipation of the kiss she was hoping would come and seal their fate. She was certain if they kissed everything would open up between them and become crystal clear. Their noses were nearly touching and she finally gave in and closed her eyes. Harry's nervous breath whispered over her lips and she knew they were mere millimetres away from meeting when the trapdoor banged loudly against the floor, instantly breaking them apart.

Ginny's eyes flew open in disappointment to find Harry already nearly in his seat again and Ron's head appearing above the trapdoor.

"Oi!" he called over to Harry in annoyance. "A little help with these boxes, mate?"

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

They spent the remainder of the evening pouring over the files Ron had brought. As soon as he had arrived he had helped himself to the remaining sandwiches on the platter, and Ginny had spent the better part of the evening glaring at her brother until he caught her doing so.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," she muttered in disgust, chancing a glance over at Harry who had shut down completely upon Ron's arrival and hadn't looked at her since. Ron hadn't noticed because to him, Harry probably wasn't acing much differently than he normally did. Ginny supposed that was where being moody came in handy.

Ginny stared down at the file she was holding in her hand, Edward Banks. She wasn't receiving much of anything from it, but she had to admit her senses were currently working overtime attempting to make heads or tails out of what had nearly happened between her and Harry. He'd been about to kiss her, and Ginny lightly touched her lips, daydreaming of the blazing kiss he had given her in her dream a couple of days ago.

She glanced over at Harry again, but he was stubbornly keeping his head bowed over the file he was currently perusing. She'd like to think he was stuck staring at the same paragraph, as she was, but he kept scanning and turning the pages, and the pile of files next to him had diminished. Ginny glanced guiltily over at her towering pile, realizing she had not made much progress.

They had divided the files between the three of them alphabetically. Ginny had the first third, Ron the middle, and Harry the last.

"How's it going?" Ron asked, dropping the file he was studying to lean back in his chair and stretch. Harry grunted noncommittally, not bothering to even look at Ron.

Shrugging, Ron glanced over at Ginny. "You haven't made much progress," he remarked. "What are you doing? Watching their life story?"

Leaning over he plucked Edward's file from Ginny's hands. "I remember this bloke. He was a seventh year when I first started. He makes Percy look like a party-animal. Can't see him cutting women up for fun."

Placing the file back down in front of Ginny, Ron picked up the one he had recently abandoned. "Now, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was a in my year and a pompous git. Him maybe."

"It won't be someone pompous," Harry commented, finally raising his head to address Ron.

"Why not?" Ron challenged. "Who's to say the wanker doesn't like women who think they are better than him?"

"A pompous git, like Justin Finch-Fletchley would never notice if a woman thought she was better than him," Harry stated firmly.

"How would you know?" Ron pressed. "You've never met Justin."

"I don't need to to know he isn't our suspect," Harry said. "Your description of him is enough to tell me we would be wasting our time with him."

"It will be someone quiet and reserved," Ginny suggested, hoping Harry would look at her.

"Exactly," Harry agreed, bowing his head once again over his file instead of visually acknowledging Ginny. "Look for someone like that."

Ginny pursed her lips in displeasure and sent silent daggers his way. If he were the least bit psychic he'd be cringing with the amount of frustration Ginny was currently feeling.

"I'm with you, Ginny," Ron muttered, misinterpreting her look before returning to his work.

Ginny brought her attention back to Edward Bank's file, but she was receiving nothing from it except that he was leading a boring life as a cauldron inspector. Ginny couldn't think of a drearier job. Percy had tormented them all to a lecture on the very subject when he first began working for the Ministry and had to write an article about the proper dimensions of a cauldron. Fortunately, Percy had moved on to more interesting work, at least for him, as a magical textbook editor.

Adding Edward's file to the small stack beside her, Ginny moved on to the next and then next until her brain grew numb from reading, literally and figuratively. She very much wanted to call it a night, as little progress had been made, but she did not want to end her time with Harry, even if her brother had ruined any chance of them exploring the newfound feelings blossoming between them. Ginny stole another glance towards Harry and was surprised to meet his very enticing green eyes looking over at her. They were dark and guarded, but even so, just the sight of them was enough to send her heart racing and to turn her insides to complete mush.

Her cheeks coloured at being caught glancing at him, but she was happy to see his own pink in return. She smiled and was rewarded with the small smile he had given her earlier in the evening before he ducked his head back into the file he was reviewing.

Sighing, Ginny looked over at her brother, who was absently chewing on a hangnail on his thumb as he read a file. His eyes were glazed, and she knew he probably wasn't even seeing anything that was written in front of him. She had seen that look on his face countless of times during their school years when he was supposed to be studying in the common room. He was done for the evening, as well. It wouldn't be long before he came out of his stupor and announced it to the room.

Deciding she should probably use the little time she had left to be productive instead of daydreaming herself, Ginny pulled one last file towards her and felt her body stiffen immediately. He was here, in the file. The room blurred around her as she was pulled from her body into the mind of the killer.

_His breath came in gasps as he ran over the school grounds. The Death Eaters were everywhere and he shouldn't be here. He wasn't supposed to be here, but Colin was out here somewhere and he was his best friend. He should have stayed in the common room like they had been instructed to do. You-Know-Who was angry, sending his followers into the castle to search for something that was his. The evil wizard was out here somewhere too, with his closest generals, all heading towards the castle and the destruction of anyone who stood in their way._

_They were supposed to be safe. Hadn't Professor Dumbledore always said they would be safe at Hogwarts? Maybe if the headmaster had lived to see the end of the war, but he had died, leaving them all behind to fend for themselves. _

_"Colin!" he called over the deafening sounds of explosions and screaming. _

_He covered his head as cinders and rubble rained around him. Chancing a glance up at the castle, he could see the south tower spewing embers and thick smoke into the air from its shorn off top while fires raged behind what few windows remained. He watched, horror struck, as it toppled in on itself, and fervently hoped there hadn't been anyone left within the tower. Bodies were already strewn across the lawn surrounding it, most unmoving._

_He staggered towards the grisly scene, praying that Colin wasn't amongst the dead and wounded on the ground. He couldn't see the familiar shock of blond hair and breathed a small sigh of relief when a piercing scream, closer to the forest sounded, followed by the gleeful laughter of a woman._

_He whirled around at the sounds and ran towards the dark and forbidding forest he had so far avoided the entire time he had been attending Hogwarts. His heart pounded in his chest as he drew closer and saw darker shadows dancing just past the tree line._

_"Filthy, wittle Mudblood!" a woman shrieked, as he drew closer. "Did you think you were any match for a pureblood?"_

_Creeping to the edge of the tree line, he was terrified to see Colin hanging in mid-air, while a pale, dark-haired witch paced in front of him. Her beautiful features were twisted in a ghastly leer as she slashed her wand maliciously at Colin's helpless form. His body writhed under the torment and his screams filled the air._

_He covered his ears, frozen to the spot in terror as more Death Eaters approached from within the forest, calling to the woman and laughing at Colin's predicament. _

_With an ugly sneer, the witch flicked her wand at Colin, sending his body plunging to the ground. He whimpered in pain and his observer cried out in alarm. Swivelling her head towards the sound, the woman's black eyes roved the tree line, immediately spotting him crouching behind a tree._

_"Well, another wittle wizard," she cackled, stepping closer. "My you are a wee one, aren't you?"_

_"Don't come any closer!" his voice trembled as he held his shaking wand towards her._

_"No," Colin weakly pleaded, blood dripping from his split lips._

_""Oh," light dawned in the witch's eyes, looking between the two of them. "I see." Savagely brandishing her wand at him, he felt his wand fly from his weak grasp. He cried in vain, lunging over the ground towards her as she laughed and danced away and petrified him._

_"Another weak Mudblood, coming to play?" she taunted. "Watch and learn, little boy. Crucio!"_

_Colin's already ravaged body feebly thrashed on the ground, blood from the numerous gashes on his torso bleeding more profusely. Tears rain down the frozen face of the helpless observer, while the demented witch pranced about them, insanely laughing. He was weak. He couldn't help and Colin was dying. He watched as his best friend's body slowly stopped moving altogether, the screaming dying on his cracked lips. The dark witch continued to send waves of her Torture Spell towards Colin's now inert body until she realized he was still. With an evil sneer upon her face, she turned towards him and unleashed the fury of the spell upon him. Darkness overtook him, and the last thing he saw was her dark eyes and hair, swinging about him and Colin's dead eyes watching from beyond._

Ginny woke up to find herself lying on the love seat, covered with the colourful afghan. Her head pounded unforgivably and her stomach churned with nausea, and she immediately leaned over the side to retch upon the stayed half-sitting up, clutching the side of the love seat, staring at the floor and Harry's and Ron's shoes. Her body trembled uncontrollably from the vision she had just seen.

Ron knelt beside her and placed his hand upon her shoulder, rubbing it lightly. "Ginny," he said quietly.

He was soon joined by Harry, who held a glass of water in his hand. He silently held it out towards her and Ginny raised her eyes to meet his. They were wide with concern behind his silver frames and she nodded a silent affirmation that she was all right, before accepting the glass. She drank half of it before sitting fully upright and pulling the afghan close about her. She was chilled to the bone from having experienced such close and personal contact with the killer. She took another sip of water to steady herself, before setting the glass on the table beside the love seat.

"It's Dennis Creevey," she whispered.

"The mouse?" Ron incredulously asked.

Harry flicked his eyes away from Ginny to look at Ron. "That was his nickname? Why?"

"He was quiet as a mouse, and looked like one, too," Ron said. "He was tiny when he first started attending. A stiff wind could have knocked him over. The bloke fell in the lake on the boat ride over his first day."

"Did he have friends?" Harry asked.

"He was three years below me, so I didn't pay much attention to him," Ron admitted. "I do know he spent most of his time with his brother, Colin. They were very close."

"Were?" Harry said, catching on to Ron's use of the past tense.

"Colin died during the final battle," Ron explained, a light dawning as he spoke. "Gruesomely. It was difficult to identify his body. Dennis never came back to school to finish his studies." He looked over at Ginny with deep concern.

"I can't believe I didn't know until now," Ginny said plaintively, looking between Harry and Ron. "We were in the same House! How could I not have known?"

"That's not how your gift works," Ron reminded her.

"But, even in the visions I couldn't recognize him," she exclaimed.

"It's been several years since we saw him last," Ron said. "People change."

"Are you sure it was him?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded. "Yes, I saw him and Colin. Bellatrix was torturing Colin and Dennis was too afraid to help."

"Bellatrix," Harry spat.

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"She tortured Dennis, too," Ginny explained. "He's trying to make up for not helping Colin before."

Harry's lips formed a thin line at this statement, "That's not an excuse for torturing and murdering innocent women." His eyes flamed brightly.

"I know," Ginny agreed.

"We need to find him before he finds another victim," Harry declared. "We should head back to the office immediately and try to track down his location."

"We can start with his parents," Ron offered. "They probably would know something."

Harry nodded and glanced at Ginny. "Thank you. It might have taken us days to narrow the search down."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm glad my idea panned out." She smiled weakly, but she was too exhausted to do much more. As much as she would have liked to offer to go with them, she knew she would not be any more help at this juncture. Not to mention that with the identity of the killer now in place, there wasn't much need for her services anymore. She swallowed, picking up the glass of water and morosely sipping the contents as Harry and Ron swiftly cleared up the stacks of files. Harry tucked Dennis Creevey's file in his robes and Ron levitated the boxes he had brought towards the trapdoor.

Harry moved to the door as Ron quickly walked back over to her to give her a brief hug. She returned it, her eyes looking over his shoulder at Harry who stood awkwardly by the door, shuffling his feet. She was reminded of their initial meeting just a few days ago and as she released Ron she had to wonder if she would ever see Harry again. He waved a distant farewell to her before levitating the boxes down the ladder and descending the ladder himself. Ron bid her a good-bye and quickly exited after his partner, leaving Ginny alone in her suddenly very quiet and lonely classroom.

**End Author's Notes: **Several of you speculated at the end of Chapter six that the killer was Dennis. Very good! However, Lokken8 guessed it early on - around the first or second chapter, if I am not mistaken! Good job, Lokken! I suppose after all the clues were given it was pretty obvious, but I hope you all enjoyed the mystery and putting all the pieces together, all the same. Only a few more chapters to go!


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